The Process of Losing It
by yesfangirlingismylife
Summary: With a risky job comes risky decisions, whether it be avoiding bullets or falling in love. Everyone goes through the process of losing it. Being a CIA agent gets ten times harder when you're in the process of falling in love with your partner. Join Agents Eaton and Prior as they travel the world- and come to the realization that their worlds have been each other all along.
1. Chapter 1

The Process of Losing it

 _I'm very pleased to announce that I have returned to yesfangirlingismylife after quite the long hiatus (One year…oops. Time flies.) from actual real stories on this account. I've been really taking my time on this story, working on it for about six months (which was hard due to sports) but I'm so glad to finally post from this account again. It feels refreshing. I'm so glad I've gotten back to my roots and improved my writing by taking my time. Thanks for all the support. Open to PMs. So much love. Should be updating every couple days. I don't like schedules._

Chapter 1: Contingency

She makes it hard for me to focus. Extremely hard. She's beautiful. And by beautiful, I mean _beautiful._ One could not describe her beauty. Her beauty is one I've never seen before. Yet, contrary to what I said, she is not indescribable. There are many words I can use to describe her. It is as if my brain doesn't operate when she's looking at me, or when my eyes are on her. I operate when my eyes are away from her beautiful being. What's confusing, though, is that she is both describable and indescribable. My mind always whirls at the sight of her.

My thoughts are taken away from me by the sound of a gunshot.

Then the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

She punches him in the face, and then with a kick of the foot to his skull, he is unconscious.

"Four!" she yells.

My head snaps in her direction, only to be confronted by a large man who is equal in size to me.

He throws a swing at me, but misses by a long shot. I knee him in the gut, push him to the ground, and then I knock him unconscious with my foot.

She breathes heavily. "He could've killed you, Four. You have to pay more attention. Focus."

I roll my eyes at her and then pick up the briefcase from the unconscious man. "Tris, I'm alive, aren't I?"

She crosses her arms. "You're my partner. You have to be okay."

I smile at her. "Right back at ya, Prior."

We start to make our way to the Jeep, but three more men surround us, immediately attacking.

"Take the briefcase to the Jeep, Tris!" I yell to her as I try to fight the men. I see her kick one of them one more time, then run toward the Jeep.

I'm unfocused, so the attacker gets a swing on me, right to the jaw.

One of the reasons why Tris _shouldn't_ be my partner.

I'm not complaining though. If I have to take a few punches in order to be her partner, I'd take them all without a second thought.

I hear Tris start up the Jeep. For a split second, I get a glimpse of sand rising up into the air as the wheels spin. So far, I've been able to get two of the three too hurt to keep fighting. The last guy puts up a good fight though.

"Tris!" I yell. "If you could _not_ leave me here, that'd be great!"

The next thing I see is Tris going forty miles an hour and whacking the guy in front of me before he can attempt get another punch in on me.

My eyes go wide when they meet hers.

I stare at her with a little smirk as I get inside the topless car. I go to say something, but she cuts me off before I can.

"Can it, Eaton," she says, chuckling.

The wind whips through her hair as she drives away, fast as can be. The Jeep is topless, and the sun beats down on our skin. It's a blazing 101 degrees out, so Tris and I dress lightly. The wind moves our hair in every which way, especially Tris's, despite her effort to put it in a messy bun while driving with her knee.

She puts on her sunglasses from the center console, and I too.

"Five bucks says there's cocaine in there," she says without looking at me.

I snort at her incredulous bet. "Then I'll be five dollars richer, because there's no drugs in this baby," I say, patting at the briefcase. "All docs. Papers, forged signatures, agreements. That kind of stuff."

"Then open it," she says, shrugging.

"Tris," I say. "The papers will go flying everywhere."

She shrugs. "I'll be five dollars poorer, then."

I unlock the case to see rows upon rows, stacks upon stacks of cocaine.

"Shit," I mumble. "How do you do that? You always know what's inside before we even open the cases. On every assignment, you know what's inside! I kid you not, every assignment."

She smirks at me. "It's what I do."

"You're going to brag about this all the way until we get back to the city, aren't you?" I groan.

"It's a long ride, darling," she says, an evil smirk planted on her face.

When we arrive back at the hotel in Cape Town, South Africa, we throw ourselves on our beds.

"Tris," I say, "the reason we were sent to apprehend the briefcase was because there was illegal smuggling into the U.S., right? I mean, obviously there's more to it, but still."

She shrugs. "That's what the case file says, so yeah."

I frown. "They're hiding something. Our boss. Our boss's boss. Our boss's boss's boss. You see where I'm going with this?"

She chuckles. "Four, it's the American government we're talking about here. Of _course_ , they're lying."

I shake my head. "So why do I want to work for them? Why do I keep doing this? Why do I continue to work for 'the man' when I haven't the slightest idea of what's really going on?"

She shrugs once again. "You and I—we're the same. I've thought those exact questions so many times I've lost track. Another thing that's the same: we both have the urge to protect people. Dealing with the government and its secrets is a small price to pay to do what we love. Don't forget that, Four."

I groan into the much-used hotel pillow. "Stop being so logical, Tris."

She laughs. "Sorry."

I smile at her and lift my face from the pillow when she starts to speak again.

"You think we'll be home for Christmas?" Tris asks.

I shrug. "Probably not. Besides, it's not like I have anyone to go home to. I know you don't either."

"People with happy families don't become spies. A bad childhood is the perfect cover for a covert operative in the CIA. They don't trust anyone, they're used to getting smacked around, and they never get homesick. It just makes sense doesn't it?" she asks quietly.

I scratch my head. "Yeah," I say softly. "Yeah. If we aren't out on a mission, we should totally hang out on Christmas. We can just chill and watch a bunch of classic Christmas movies or something."

She grins. "Definitely. And besides," she says, "it's only October. Maybe we _will_ get to go home."

I sigh. "Doubtful. It's a one in a million chance that we get home and actually relax for once."

"Hey, we're relaxing right now," she points out with a smirk.

I chuckle. "Not the same thing. You know," I say suddenly, "I don't even have a home. I don't have anywhere to go. I have three boxes of everything that I own. My life—My _life_ is compacted into _three boxes._ Three boxes, Tris. The CIA assigned me a crazy nice apartment that I've stayed in for probably a month, total. I've had that apartment for three years. I mean… I have clothes and one sentimental thing unpacked. It's just one assignment after the next, you know?"

"I _do_ know. I've been doing the same thing for three years. Over and over. I swear fifty percent of my life is going to be on an airplane," she says with a sad chuckle. "But hey, at least I get to travel, right?"

I smile at her. She's always goofy even in serious conversations like this. "The traveling part _is_ pretty cool. But there's also something else you forgot."

She lists her head to the side, curious about what she could've forgotten.

"There's the perk of being with me every day of your life. I _am_ pretty awesome," I say with a shit-eating grin.

She throws her pillow at me, laughing. "I hate you."

"Oh, come on. No you don't. We've kissed. Twice!" I say, laughing along with her.

"Four," she chuckles, "don't use that against me. We were pretending to be married."

I smile and throw the pillow at her. "Technically both kisses."

Tris only laughs. "Whatever, loser."

I jump over to her bed without touching the ground. Playfully, she screams as I jump on top of her. I throw a pillow at her, and she grabs one, throwing it with such force that it knocks me off of her and onto the floor.

Groaning on the floor, the breath is taken right out of me.

"Tris," I yell, "you little shit!"

She just laughs at me, so I grab the blankets she lays on and pull them toward the ground. She slides off the bed along with the covers, and lands just beside me. She's all wrapped up in the covers like a taco, so I pick her up, and toss her over my shoulder.

"Tobias Keith!" she yells in my ear. "Put me down!"

I shrug. "As you wish," I mumble, and then throw her down on the bed.

"Ugh!" she squeals. "You freaking imbecile."

I kindly smile at her, and she slaps me with the nearest pillow. "Love you too, Beatrice Elizabeth."

"Four, you're an asshole, you know that?"

"I've been told that once or twice before."

I look at her with lustful eyes, and I feel her eyes bore into me in return, but without the reciprocated feelings of lust.

The phone rings.

"Prior," she answers. "Yes. Coke. Okay. Why? Okay. We'll see you tomorrow."

"We fly out tomorrow now and not tonight," she says, sighing, after she hangs up.

I grab the keys. "Let's go then."

"I'm sorry?" she says, chuckling.

"Let's go on an adventure."

"An adventure," she repeats.

"Yes. An adventure."

She laughs. "Fine then. Let's go on an adventure."

As I drive, it's hard for me to focus on the road. With Tris by my side, it's hard to focus on anything. The top to the jeep is off, and her hair is whipping in the wind. Her attempts to put it up are valiant like earlier, but her hair and her personality have a lot in common; they both cannot be tamed.

That's what I love about her. The improbability is almost always there, and it is so, so important to have that. The unpredictability is almost always there. The disequilibrium is almost always there. These things are essential to being Beatrice Prior.

"What are you thinking about, Four?" she asks me as she looks me in the eye. She has that twinkling smirk that shines brighter than a bursting supernova.

"Honestly?" I ask, smirking toward her. "You."

She previously was looking down at her toes, wiggling them, but her head snaps up at me. "Excuse me?"

I laugh. "You're awesome. Like, the best partner I've ever had."

"I'm the only partner you've ever had," she points out.

"And that makes you the best," I tell her with a smile. "What I really mean, though, is that you're just really fun to work with. That's all," I say nonchalantly.

"I guess you're pretty fun too," she tells me, but quickly tries to change the subject for obvious reasons. "So where are you taking me?"

I smirk at her once again, and then say, "On an adventure, silly."

She doesn't argue or demand to know. She just shakes her head, smiling, and goes with it.

When we arrive, she isn't surprised. We could see Table Mountain from our hotel, and it was stunning. The clouds hover just above the flat plateau of the mountain, not even a little bit of snow on the flat top due to the blazing heat.

"Let's climb it," Tris says to me with wild eyes. The blue in her eyes is overwhelmingly beautiful, and her smile bigger than any I've seen before.

"Climb it?"

She shrugs. "It's only about an hour and a half to the top. And by the time we get to the top, it'll be just before sunset. It'll be beautiful, and—and—," she rants, but I soon cut her off.

"Not as beautiful as you," I say with a wink, and then start on the path to the top.

She soon follows suit, and when I look behind me, she's already allured into the nature of the trees around the path and the wildlife in the branches. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement, her hair bobbing with every step she takes, and perhaps my favorite of all these things is her smile. It's almost as exotic as her personality. Her lips cross her face far and wide, and her teeth white as a pearl. It's a genuine smile, which is the best part.

This is what Tris loves. Exploring. Going on adventures. Contingency.

Tris herself is contingent, which makes it hard for her to love and to be loved.

But love itself is contingent.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Protocol

The next day, we went home with fond memories of the previous days we spent together. The whole kicking ass part, the time in the hotel room, and, best of all, the adventure to the top of the mountain.

But eventually, all those memories will fade, and we'll remember them as a part of our life where we wish we had treasured it more.

Nevertheless, we continue with our jobs, and I won't treasure it as much as I probably should.

When we return to Langley, we are just thrown another case, but we actually don't leave tonight. We'll get to stay here in D.C. for a night, then leave for Belarus.

The mission in Belarus is simple: set up incognito security cameras on the borders of Poland and Belarus. The CIA suspects that there is an illegal weapons trade occurring along the border by American citizens. All we've got to do is tap the spot where we assume the trading is happening.

I say my goodbye to Tris, and, I will admit, it was wonderful to hug her. We hug all the time; it's nothing special.

And, for some odd reason, this one felt strangely exceptional.

* * *

We arrive in Belarus at around seven o'clock their time. This is a one-day mission, meaning we go in, then we go out. The job is extremely simple, and it would take an imbecile to screw it up.

The border between the two nations is quite striking. The trees are an exotic forest green that _seems_ infinite, while the bright blue sky _is_ infinite.

While I'm distracted by nature's beauty, another beautiful something captures my attention.

Rather, some _one._

Tris is sitting on a rock, facing Poland, where the borders meet. She is observing nature's beauty like I was the previous moment.

Something about her has changed. Except, in a positive way. She seems happy.

I saunter over to her sitting on the rock, then take a seat myself just next to her. She doesn't move or flinch or scoot away from me. If anything, she leans in, enjoying the moment.

"Who is it?" I ask, not turning my head. I keep a blank poker face as I stare at the border, but knowing Tris, she'll read it easier than a children's book.

Her expression is placid also, but she has the courage to turn toward me, unlike myself to her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Who is it?" I repeat simply.

"What?"

I explain, "The person that makes you happy."

"I don't follow," she says, stressed and perplexed.

I breathe out. "You've changed. For the better. You're happier, always in a better mood, and, I don't know why, but you seem to be making me quite the happy camper too," I say, and then follow with a pause. "So, who are you with? Who's made you happy?"

She smirks and looks down bashfully. "Um, no one."

I laugh. Typical. "C'mon. Who is it?"

She shakes her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth."

"You're going to pull that line on me? Really?" I ask. "It just better not be Mark the Desk Jockey."

"Mark? Really, Four?" she laughs. "All he does is say hi to me sometimes when we're back in Langley."

"Oh, he is _so_ hitting on you. All the time, actually!"

Tris laughs at my suggestion. "No. I reject that completely. And besides, all we do is talk. That's all. Casual conversation between two very _mature_ coworkers."

"He's all over you, 100%."

"No!" she says, laughing at my incredulous accusations.

"But why?" I ask her with a frown. "Is it so _incredulous_ that a guy might be hitting on you?"

"That's besides the point. He just wasn't hitting on me."

"Tell me why you believe that," I demand.

"Just because!"

Tris is silent after that, as well as I. Then, for a moment, she inhales like she's about to say something, then decides it'd be best if she didn't. She seems to be at a loss for words, processing what I possibly could mean by those two inquiries.

"I—" she begins but we're cut off by the sound of an engine, likely a military Humvee.

"Belorussian government," I mutter. "Go with protocol."

We stay on the rock, but twist our heads to see what's going on.

A man gets out of the vehicle. He wears a camouflage uniform with a red beret on top of his head.

"What are you?" he yells with his thick accent. "FBI? CIA?"

Tris puts on her frightened face then grasps my arm. "Hikers," she says shakily. "Just hikers."

"No!" he says angrily. He grabs his gun from the holster, and then points it between the two of us. "I learned my lesson from last time! You are not hikers! I will not fall for this ruse again! Now what do you want with my border?"

We put our hands up, as if to surrender.

"Nothing, sir," I say calmly. "We're newlyweds, hiking our way about Europe. You have nothing to be concerned about."

"I do. I know the way you CIA act. I trained for this since I was 18. We have security cameras everywhere. We saw you plant the hidden cameras, too. Now which ones are they?"

"We're _just hikers,_ " Tris says in distress. "That's all. We don't know about any cameras."

The Belorussian man sighs. "You call up that man of yours—what's his name? Max, is it? Yes, you call him."

"Max?" Tris says. "That's our dog's name back at home. I don't know what you—"

"If you're going to argue, just get in the van now."

I breathe out, and then shake my head. "Sir, would you mind giving me a moment with my wife?"

He shakes his head too. "Go."

Tris and I step over to the side by the rock.

"Protocol," Tris whispers. "We can't just _stick to it_."

"Tris, we have to. We need to call Max and let him know what's going down. We'll figure a way out of wherever they take us."

"Tobias," she pleads, eyes wide and brave.

"Tris," I blurted easily. I grab her shoulders and give her a confident look. One that says _Trust me._

"Okay," she complies. "Okay. Protocol it is. I trust you."

I give her a small smile, but it soon disappears when I turn back to the Belorussian police.

"All right," I tell them. "We'll go with you. But I swear… We're only American hikers."

"Get in the van!" the police officer shouts. "Now! And give us your weapons and devices!"

"We don't own guns," Tris objects. "We're just hikers."

The officer holding us at gunpoint breathes out, angry. "In the van."

Tris and I immediately make our way to the van, following orders. An officer opens the back, and we give him our pocketknives and climb in without a fight. They slam the doors to seem intimidating, but it doesn't work. Not on us. Tris leans her head back against the wall to the van. We are trapped in a simple metal box—no seats, no padding, no window to the front seat. A metal box. Our kidnappers do not terrify me. I am not terrified of pain.

What I _am_ terrified of is this damn metal box. The other thing I'm terrified of is much larger and more important than this death box. The other thing I'm terrified of is seeing somebody I care about get hurt. And if Tris gets hurt… If they even lay a _finger_ on her, then I will do everything in my power to make sure they don't even look at her the wrong way the next time around.

"Fuck," Tris mumbles beside me. "What're we going to do, Tobias?"

I sigh, but a small smile grows inside of me. She rarely calls me Tobias. It brings me a certain kind of pleasure when Tris calls me that. It's usually only when she's yelling my full name—Tobias Keith Eaton—or when we're having a moment. Something special. Recently, I've noticed we've been having more and more of those.

"I don't know," I answer. "But we'll get through it. We've been in tougher pickles before." I give her a little nudge, and she smiles, and then rests her head on my shoulder.

"I know," Tris says softly. "I'll seduce them or something."

I laugh.

"You know, with my bright blue eyes and too-short legs. My honey hair and sultry voice."

 _You have no idea_ , I think to myself. _No idea._

I only laugh again instead of saying what I am thinking.

"That's a last resort," I declare adamantly.

"But it's still an option. Don't get so overprotective," she says, looking up at me.

I turn and look down. "Tris…"

"I get it," she says, closing her eyes. "I'm your partner. But you've got to believe in me."

"It's not that I don't believe in you, but it's just…I don't want you to get hurt."

She keeps her eyes closed and continues to lean on my shoulder. "I understand. But I won't let you hold me back, Tobias."

I groan. "I know, I know. I can't do that to you. Just promise me you won't make any stupid decisions."

"I never do," she grumbles. "You know that."

"Beatrice," I say. "Just—"

She snaps her head up me, eyebrows creased. "You never call me that," she says. "Beatrice."

I breathe out. "You're right. I like the name Tris. It suits you. But when I call you Beatrice and you call me Tobias Keith, it means we're serious. And right now, I'm very serious. I need you to promise me you won't make any stupid decisions."

Tris gives me a soft look. One I've never seen from her before. Her eyes are warm, caring. She looks guilty, as if she feels bad for scaring me; like a puppy dog who just ate at the drapes. "Alright," she says delicately. "I promise. But you need to promise too. I'm not the only one who can be reckless."

"I promise."

I don't say anything after that. She leans her head on my shoulder again, and I rest mine on hers.

* * *

The ride is bumpy, and we're in the van for at least three hours. Tris falls asleep, but under these circumstances, there's no way I can. Not because of the bumpy ride, but because of the fact that we just got kidnapped. Sure, it's happened before and we've always gotten out of it. But something… something just feels different about this one. Something makes me want to do anything for her. I would take a bullet for her. Cover her to protect her from a bomb. If one of us had to die, I wouldn't let it be she. I just don't understand what's different about this particular situation. Of course, before this I would take a bullet for her, but… God, there's something different, and it freaks me the fuck out, because I just _have_ to know about things like this. I have to know why things like this happen.

My body lurches forward, and due to the sudden stop, Tris topples over me. She gasps, realizing she's tumbling as she awakens. We both start to laugh and sit back up.

"How long has it been?" she asks, yawning.

"Three hours, max. So it's probably around one o'clock."

"Sorry I fell asleep on you. You should've just pushed me off," she chuckles.

The van moves back in motion, speeding up.

I smile. "And just—"

The van comes to another sudden stop, but this time, two men come out and open the back doors. Tris and I look at each other, and we begin to climb out.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: To Belarus!

 _The van comes to another sudden stop, but this time, two men come out and open the back doors. Tris and I look at each other, and we begin to climb out._

We are met with rain pouring down and trickling on our cheeks, the air crisp, cold, and thin. They put zip ties around our wrists behind our backs as makeshift handcuffs, and start to take us into what looks like a mansion.

I don't know why a mansion. It's secluded in the middle of the forest, presumably no one around for miles and miles.

They take us in and they urge us to a table by the couch in front of the fire.

"First," the leader says, "you eat."

They put bowls of what looks like grits, maybe, in front of us.

They cut the zip ties, and I look at Tris, and I see a wince cross her face. She immediately brings her hands to meet each other. Who seems to be the leader of this group of secret police, leaves the room, and all that is left are two guards on the opposite side of the atrium.

I slightly lean over to Tris. "Are you okay?"

"They cut me," she whispers. "I'm fine though. I'm fine." She takes apart her hands, and blood is spread throughout her palm where there is a slight two-inch laceration.

"Damn," I grunt. I unbutton the sleeve to my plaid shirt, and I rip part of it off.

"No, Tobias, Tobias, it's—"

"Shut up," I tell her, "and give me your hand."

She rolls her eyes and complies. "Okay. Fine."

I wrap the cloth around her hand, laying it on thick. I tuck the end into the rest, and then I release her hand.

"Thank you," she says softly.

With her other hand, she takes the spoon that was given to her and starts to eat the food.

"Tris, don't," I say harshly. "That could be poisoned."

"Tobias, if they wanted to kill us, they've had plenty of opportunities. They need us alive to question us."

I nod unsurely. "Okay."

What am I even thinking? It doesn't make sense. I know that they need us alive. I don't understand where this paranoia is coming from. I know what I've been trained and I know how to deal with these situations. So what's come over me?

The leader of the secret police comes and sits across from us at the table.

"So," he says, "what's it like working for CIA?"

"I wouldn't know," Tris says. "I own a bookstore in Seattle, Washington."

"Well," he chuckles, "for being an American hiker, you sure know a lot about my country. Don't you?"

She looks up, confident, much like the real Tris. "I've admired your country for a very long time. The Belorussian people are strong. Your country has been sold, stolen, borrowed, occupied, and destroyed. And still the only reason you are here is because Russia allows you to be."

"You do not know that from a bookshop you own!" he shouts. "You know it from your CIA files!"

Tris stays silent.

"People don't recognize us for anything. We make a world-class motorcycle. The M1nsk," he grunts in frustration.

"Well after this," she retorts snappily, "I think I'll buy a Harley."

He quickly slams his hand down on the wooden table. "You better watch your pretty mouth!" he yells. "We both have job to do. I work for my government just like you do. Your job is to come here uninvited, while mine is to use you to help my country."

"You are not helping your country," Tris says aggressively. "The money you get from this will go to the secret police, and you'll get, at most, say, 15%?"

He glares.

She chuckles, as if to pity him. "10?" she asks condescendingly.

The man gets up, stands for a second, then she walks away. He slams the door when he leaves.

"Beatrice Elizabeth, you are pushing it," I tell her.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm always like this. It's fine, Tobias Keith. All under control."

A couple minutes later, when we are done, we decide to sit in front of the fire.

"I have an idea," Tris declares.

"Do tell."

"I go over to the guards. They're drinking. They've had about three shots, maybe four. A little tipsy, but not too bad. Russians know how to tolerate their liquor. I ask them to come over here, by the fire, and request to have a couple. Though they may consider me inadequate because I am a woman, I will coerce them. Then I grab one of the bottles, and I throw it into the fire. They'll get burnt, at least knocked down. We run."

I nod. "I like the way you think, Prior."

"Okay. Here we go."

Tris stands, and then waves them over. I continue staring at the fire so I don't raise suspicion.

"Hey, boys," Tris flirts. "How about you give me a little shot. From what I've read about your country, the third shot is toasted to the women."

"You may be correct," one of them verbalizes, "but this is too strong for a small girl like you."

She scoffs. "Barely water. I can drink with men. After all, I _have_ been to Leningrad."

They chuckle. "Okay. We'll see."

One walks over to a table, retrieving a shot glass. He hands it to her, then begins to pour.

"To Belarus!" he exclaims.

The bottoms of their cups go up.

"To you!" Tris laughs as they pour another shot.

The bottoms of their cups go up.

"To women!"

The bottoms of their cups go up.

"To M1nsk!" she bellows.

The bottoms of their cups go up, but Tris throws her liquid behind her and onto the carpet.

"May I see the bottle?" Tris asks.

I prepare to run.

They laugh, likely drunk. "Yeah."

"To Coldplay," Tris chuckles. Coldplay is one of the biggest bands here in Belarus.

The two officers' bottoms go up, but not Tris's. She throws the bottle of vodka into the fire, and it erupts.

Our feet pound against the sticks as we make our way through the thick forest. I follow Tris in the pursuit of the sprint. We know which direction we're going, and that's west, to Poland. When we're far enough away, Tris and I stop.

"Tris," I breathe, "we need to head to Poland."

"What?" she says. "No. No way. We need to go to Ukraine, not Poland. Poland is closer and there are U.S. military bases," Tris reasons, "but that's where they'll expect us to go."

I ponder.

"We need to stick to protocol though," I argue. "Just like I said earlier this morning."

She sighs. "As trained agents to the CIA, we must know when to make the right choices. And right now, we could risk getting caught because of the path we take. They'll check Poland before they check Ukraine. We can go to the Ukrainian embassy. It'll be fine," she reassures. "Tobias. Please."

I give an unsure look. "I trust you. Let's go."

We continue to walk through the forest, silent.

"Down in the forest, we'll sing a chorus, one that everybody knows. Hands held higher, we'll be on fire, singing songs that nobody wrote. My brain has given up, white flags are hoisted. I took some food for thought; It might be poisoned," Tris sings.

"'I took some food for thought; It might be poisoned,'" I repeat. "That's a great lyric. Who wrote that song?"

"Twenty-One Pilots," Tris tells. "One of my favorite songs."

I don't say anything at first. Then, "You have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you," she smiles.

"Sing me another song," I insist.

She gives me a look, as if I am strange. "About what?"

"Anything. Something that speaks to you."

She nods. "My favorite song of all time _ever_ is 'Addict With A Pen.' There's no way I'm singing it though," she laughs.

"You're an addict with a pen, wouldn't you say?" I ask her.

"What?" she spits. She stops in her tracks in front of me. "How'd you know I write?"

I laugh. "Don't get so defensive. I can just tell. The way you speak and the way you carry yourself all implies that you like to ponder the deeper meanings of life."

She smiles at me, still unmoving, looking as if she's made a discovery. "You know that because you're the same as me. You write. Someone who doesn't write would _not_ say 'ponder the deeper meanings of life.'"

I look away then start hiking yet again. I walk past her, and she looks at me in awe.

"You write!" she exclaims as if she still could not believe it.

She's correct. I don't say anything though.

"Why did you never tell me?" she asks, catching up.

I shrug. "I don't like to talk about it. What do you think people would say if I told them I write poetry?" I laugh. "They won't take me seriously. And that saddens me, because I never planned on this job. Being a CIA agent. I always wanted to be a writer. I still write stuff when I have time and read them at little coffeehouses occasionally, but I'm lucky if I get to do that a couple times a year."

She seems shocked. "Will you let me read something sometime?"

I don't hesitate when I answer. "No. Absolutely not."

Tris rolls her eyes. I can tell she'd really like to read it, but I also know she would never let me read hers, which is fair.

"Hey," Tris says suddenly, "you would do anything for me, right?"

I crease my eyebrows and smile at her. "Of course," I say without hesitating. "Anything."

"Would you give me a piggyback ride? You know, like when we were in Prague that one time—"

"Prague," I interrupt, "was the absolute best time of my life."

She grins. "Mine too."

I stand in front of her and bend down. "Hop on."

Tris does so, and I hold her up by grasping her legs. Not her butt. Much, much too tempting. She wraps her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder.

"You're the best," she says in my ear. "The absolute best."

I look back at her, our lips only a mere inch apart. "I know."

I turn my head straight again. I might lose it. And I definitely cannot afford to lose it.

"Is something bothering you, Tobias?"

I shake my head. "I'm fine."

She exhales dramatically. "You're lying."

"Everything," I assured, turning around with a smile, "is fine."

Tris rolls her eyes, and then nuzzles her cheek into my shoulder. "Just talk to me if it's not, okay?" she mumbles.

I nod. "Yeah."

"You know how I mentioned you doing anything for me?" she asks. "Earlier, when I was, you know, asking for a piggyback ride."

"Yeah, about twenty seconds ago," I laugh.

She doesn't give any signs of amusement. "Well, would you? In reality?"

"Beatrice," I say adamantly. I set her down so she's standing on the ground. "I would do absolutely anything for you without uncertainty."

She smiles and looks down, embarrassed. "Okay. I just… It's nice being reassured of having such an amazing and selfless partner once in a while."

Smiling, I shake my head. "I love having you as my partner, and I would never trade that for anything in the world."

She doesn't say anything at first, and then she speaks up. "I would. Um, do anything for you, that is," she mutters shyly.

"What's going on with you?" I chuckle. "It's not like we just had a near-death experience. Maybe that vodka is getting to you," I tease.

She laughs. Tris hops back on me, and we continue our trek. "No, I'm fine. I can't feel anything. I just want you to know that if something happens. To me. To you. To us. I would take a bullet to the head for you."

I smile. "Under that circumstance, I don't know if my life would be worth saving."

She gives me a strange look. Confused, even. "I don't understand."

"I wouldn't want to be alive knowing you took a bullet for me."

"Well, if I did take a bullet for you, when I jump, I'd try to make it hit my arm or chest. Because, you know, that would suck getting shot in the head."

I roll my eyes. "I'd appreciate that," I tell her. "But I'd appreciate it even more if you didn't jump in the first place."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Domino's and Crash Bandicoot

 _Hey guys, just wanted to thank you all for your feedback. I want to let you know that I will be Italy on spring break from the 9th to the 17th, but I will likely still be updating. Thanks:)_

We arrived back in America with ease after reaching the Ukraine to safety. The American government was able to retrieve a helicopter for Tris and me, and then we boarded a plane. Over the last two missions, we've actually gotten to stay the night at our own apartments. They seem to be giving us a little bit more of a break over these past couple weeks, but even still we get up and go out on a plane before light breaks.

Here, in the United States, it's about two o'clock A.M., because we left Ukraine at around 8 o'clock at night. And with the time change, we're exhausted. I live just a mile away from the airport, so Tris often ends up sleeping at my place. Her apartment is probably ten miles away, because that's closer to the Langley office. Tris even keeps a bunch of extra clothes here. A toothbrush. A few bathroom necessities. When we do get the opportunities, we usually stay here, both of us sharing the bed. The first time I offered for her to stay, I told her I'd take the couch, but she insisted on not being a burden. That we should both sleep in the bed. I tried to decline. I _wanted_ to decline, because God knows I can't control myself at times.

So here Tris and I lie, side by side. We face opposite directions, but then I turn on my back, staring at the ceiling.

"Can't sleep?" she asks softly, then faces me, lying on her right side.

I turn and lay on my left side so I can see her. "Yeah. You?"

She nods and deeply breathes. "Ugh," Tris grumbles. "Part of me hates this job. I can never sleep. Never socialize. I can barely eat after having seen the things we've seen."

"I have an idea," I say to her. "You up for it?"

She groans. "Do I have to move?"

I laugh. "Only to the kitchen."

Tris grunts and gets up, groggily shuffling into the kitchen, following me.

"I'm making mac-and-cheese," I tell her.

She laughs, and the simple fact that I am making food seems to brighten up her visage. "Bless you."

I grab the milk and butter from the fridge while saying, "I'm already blessed. I have you in my life."

Tris chuckles at my remark. "Anyone with me in his or her life is blessed. Although, I don't know many people _to_ bless. I literally know, like, one person, and he's with me," she notes bitterly.

I roll my eyes. "C'mon, you can't be that antisocial. I mean, at The Farm, you and I hit it off pretty well… You know, that early morning with the coffee and the presentation. Besides the beginning when we hated each other because we were good competition for top in the class." I refer back to our training days at Camp Peary, also known as The Farm, where everyone in the CIA must complete his or her basic training to join the agency. "We got pretty lucky, huh?"

"Four," she laughs, "you and I stuck together because we were the top two in the class, and the CIA hand-picked us to be partners, considering how well we usually worked together."

I laugh again. "Beatrice, we just butt heads yesterday."

"All good teams butt heads every now and then," she tells me with a wink.

When the water boils, I put in the noodles. I hop up on the counter space in between the stove and sink, and she sits across from me, up on the counter too.

I smile at her in silence for a couple of moments, and she back.

"What?" she eventually asks. Tris has obvious curiosity roaming in her eyes, genuinely wondering what I could possibly be smiling at her for. I don't need any reason, really, to be smiling at her. She just makes me smile.

I shrug. "Nothing." I make my eyes travel to the left, looking out the giant window that overlooks a good chunk of D.C.

"Don't you ever get sick of me?" she questions. "We're almost always together on missions. And even away from that when we're back home I invite myself to stay at your place because I'm too lazy to go to mine."

I glare at her. "Of course I get sick of you. Just get out of my place. Go."

She doesn't move, smiling. "Seriously, Tobias."

I roll my eyes. "Tris, I never get sick of you. I mean, sometimes I would like to throat punch you, but I still love you."

She grunts, but her face is red as she looks down. "Whatever," she mumbles.

Beside me, I stir the noodles. "Besides, you should be the one getting sick. I'm terrible to be around."

Tris gives a tired smile, then remarks, "Never."

"Never?" I ask with one eyebrow raised disbelievingly.

She shakes her head. "Never."

I narrow my eyes. "I don't believe you."

She shrugs. "Fine."

I blink. "Just fine?"

She laughs. "What do you want me to do? Profess my everlasting, undying love for you?

 _Yes_. "No," I decline. "I don't want you to profess your everlasting, undying love for me."

 _When did I become such a liar?_

* * *

Tris and I currently sit in the office of Max Grey. He asks us simple questions so he can turn in a report that will sit in a filing cabinet until the end of life as we know it. I don't pay any attention, seeing as Tris seems to be answering every question for us.

"Yes, sir," she answers.

"Eaton? Any input?"

I snap out of my reverie in an instant. "Hm? Sorry, sir."

"Just wondering if you had any input on the mission from your point of view. Things went smoothly after the whole kidnapping thing?" he chuckles.

"We had a dispute with each other, but that was all."

His eyebrows rise. "Prior seems to have left that out. Do tell."

I shrug. "I wanted to head toward Poland, seeing as it'd be easier to gain access to American civilization. Tris wanted to head toward the Ukraine, seeing as the Belarusians would presume we'd make our way to Poland. If we did go west toward Poland, then we'd probably be back in the Belarusian's custody."

Max nods. "Good work, Prior."

"Thank you, sir."

"Okay," he drags out. "Colombian drug trading filtering through the U.S. on the Florida coastline near Miami. You'll be traveling to Colombian city Barranquilla along the coast where the drugs are being smuggled out. You will pose as Gabriel and Annie Lancaster, a married couple exploring South America, wanting to make it all the way Cape Horn, but with a little _extra motivation_. The drugs that are being smuggled are heavy. Cocaine and heroin cartels. The drug lord, Emilio Morales, is rich. Rich as in _rich_. Like Armani and Dolce and Gabbana, rich. You guys are just two rich kids looking for a good time. He's hosting a dinner party at his mansion on Friday, filled with his drug lord friends and others. Tris, we are getting you a very nice, enticing dress, and, Four, you will be getting a suit. Objective: Get Morales to tell you where the other ports are. As for stopping that actual drug trading… we've got other agents on that. Agents Pedrad and White will be accompanying you to Colombia to take care of Morales and the ship. They don't come in until you find out where the ships are. The ports that Morales tell you where the rest of the shipments go will be reported directly back to me. This trip for you two is purely intel. Pedrad and White are taking are of the rest that contains actual, well, violence, to be frank. Notify me as soon as you leave the dinner party. You leave tomorrow at 10 o'clock in the morning. Here are your passports, Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster. Don't forget to wear your fake wedding rings. Everything understood?"

We nod.

"Understood," I tell him. "So we'll actually be spending _two_ nights in D.C.?"

Max laughs. "Yes, for the first time ever."

Tris and I look at each other, then we high-five.

"You guys may leave for today. I know guys have just been constantly going, going, going. You have one job, though. Pick up your dress and tux at Indra's Dry Cleaning today. Here's the receipt."

Tris takes the receipt. "Will do. Thank you, Grey."

He nods, and Tris and I leave. We stand outside his office and cheer.

"Two nights!" she claps. "Two!"

I give an evil grin. "What would say to an adventure?"

"An adventure?"

I nod.

"Where?"

"You know I'm going to say it's a surprise."

She glares. "Fine."

"We shall pick up our attire immediately!" I chant. "Takith thou to Indra's!"

She starts laughing as we walk out of Langley. "You, Tobias, are a dork."

"I know," I say, nudging her. "Indra's is one exit over, right?"

She nods. "Yep. You'll drive me, right?"

"No," I tell her simply.

She glares, then opens the door, and gets in before I do. I climb in my plain, gray car, that demands none's attention.

"Will you tell me where to go?" I ask, eyes on the road. "I'm not quite sure."

"Yes, sir."

I smile. "So, where do you want to go today?"

Her eyebrows rise. "You didn't even know what adventure to go on?"

I shrug. "Would you like to take me on an adventure? I'll go wherever you want."

She vigorously nods. "You're not from D.C., right? From… Chicago?"

Nodding, I look over at her, and she has wonder in her eyes.

"There are so many places! Old hideouts from when I was a kid, places by the Potomac…" she trails.

"You grew up here?" I ask. We rarely ever talk about our pasts, so we really haven't a true heart-to-heart yet, even after three years of partnership.

She nods. "Indeed, I did. Oh, take a right."

I turn. "So… where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." I look at her, and she winks. "Okay, get off this exit."

I do as told.

"Now, make a right. Your destination will be on the left in .3 miles. Thank you for choosing Prior Maps. Travel again soon!"

I laugh and then roll my eyes. She's ridiculous. I park at Indra's, and we walk in.

"Hello," Tris greets sweetly, "we have a pickup for Grey?"

"Yes, yes, Mr. Grey. Did he give you this receipt?"

She nods. "Yes, ma'am. The dress is for me, and the tux for him," she tells, pointing over to me.

The woman nods. "One moment." She brings out three clear bags from the back. One of them contains the pants to the tuxedo, one the top of the tuxedo, and the last, Tris's dress.

Her mouth gapes as she gazes at the dress. It's long and black, but it's hard to tell the details because it's in the bag.

"Thank you," Tris says lightly. She takes her dress, and I take my tux.

We walk out to the car, and Tris still seems to be staring at her dress. "This is… Oh my god."

I set the tux in the backseat, and Tris's dress goes on top of it. When we get in, I tell her, "It'll look even more beautiful on you."

She looks over, and then glares. "Inaccurate."

I roll my eyes. "I guess we'll see tomorrow night."

"I suppose," she complies while looking out the window. "I bet you look entirely dapper in that tux of yours though. I've never seen you in one of those fancy penguin suits," Tris teases.

"I must admit," I tell her, "I do look quite spiffy, if I may say so myself."

She rolls her eyes. "I guess we'll see tomorrow night."

* * *

When we arrive back home—well, my place—we don't do much. She never told me the adventure we'd be going on, but I'm just following her lead. She stole a sweatshirt of mine and a pair of leggings she already had here. She made a phone call, I heard, in her room. Either that or she was talking to herself, which very well could be a possibility. I don't mention it.

I stand in the kitchen, in the process of uncapping two beers. She steps out of the bedroom, then smiles at me. She walks into the living room, out of my sight. I grab the beers and follow her in.

Tris is bending down, fiddling with something in the TV stand. Her back end is straight up in the air, and, as much as I don't want to, I look away. I walk over to the table and set down the beers. She must hear it clink, because she turns around, then grins.

"Guess what adventure we're going on tonight."

I smile. "What's that?"

"Domino's and Crash Bandicoot," she says, evilly grinning. She grabs the wireless controllers for my PlayStation2 and tosses one to me. I catch it with ease and grab a giant blanket for us to share. We sit down about five feet away from the TV, legs Indian-style, and I cover us in the blanket. Our knees are a mere millimeter apart, and her shoulder is close enough for me to nudge.

The version of Crash Bandicoot we play is CTR (Crash Team Racing). Like Mario Kart, but better.

"You know," I say as we intensely race, "if someone were to just follow us around for a day…" I stare at the screen, and then aim for a mystery box. "They would think—fuck!" Tris nudges me over with her car and pushes me off the nearby cliff. "You dick," I say to her.

She sweetly smiles as she stares at the screen.

"Anyway, if someone followed us around, then they'd probably think we were dating."

Tris wrecks her car, presumably from my comment, and I laugh.

"What?" she asks then pauses the game.

I shrug, but my heart is actually racing. "I don't know. I mean… look at us."

Tris looks at us and the way we sit. "Well," she declares, "couples go like this." She lays her head down in my lap, looking up at me. "And this…." She grabs my shirt, pulling me down, almost to her lips as she wears a shit-eating grin.

I almost lose it. Entirely. _This woman…_ I think to myself. Her eyes are a bright and wild blue, both intensifying and simplifying this moment all in one. I don't make any movements, and she doesn't either.

The doorbell rings, and neither of us jump away by the suddenness of the sound. We remain the way we are.

"But we aren't a couple," Tris tells me, and then she stands up.

"Thank you," I hear her say from the kitchen. I close my eyes, stand up, then make my way to the kitchen.

She handles two large, flat, square boxes.

"Pizza," she announces, smiling. "I ordered pizza."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Everybody's Watching Her

 _Okay, I know you guys think it's going a little too fast. You won't once you get to the climax. Just trust me, it all pieces together. By the way, this is one of my favorite chapters, so enjoy:)_

When we arrive in Colombia, it doesn't take long for us to get comfortable in our room. It's vexing how we only have about five minutes until we must leave for the dinner party, because I wish I could stare outside from the tenth story room I'm in. The water is practically clear, and the sand is whiter than snow. And, almost fittingly, the sun is setting on the ocean at the moment.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Tris says, coming up to stand beside me.

I nod, still staring. I look over to her and tell her, "I wish—Holy fuck!"

Her eyebrows rise and she seems surprised. "What?"

"I—Your—You—Dress—and…and heels! Mother of God!" I stumble, still at loss of words because of how she is dressed. Her black dress is long, going down to her ankles. There is a slit going up to about the middle of her thigh. Seductive and enticing, most definitely. No doubt about it. And the neckline goes up to what I can only describe as the bottom of her throat. It has no sleeves. It goes in, closing on her neck.

Tris looks outstanding. Her hair is down, and she looks like she was in the middle of a tornado. The blonde locks are a beautiful curly mess on her face, and she wears it like it's nobody's business. I can't see heels on her feet, but I notice that she has grown significantly.

I stand there, mouth slightly dropped, eyes slightly widened. "What I mean to say is… you… look absolutely stunning. And if I'm correct in my assumptions…" I trail off, grabbing at her left thigh, "…there's a thigh holster."

She glares. "You know me too well."

I just laugh and continue staring out the window. Every couple seconds, though, I look at her. I simply cannot resist. It is impossible to resist something so exquisite. She turns up toward me, then her eyes travel down my body. I am not looking directly at her, but I can tell she's scanning my body up and down.

"You know," she tells in a flirty voice, "my preemption was correct. You look 100% dapper in that tuxedo of yours."

I shake my head. "I come nowhere close to how you look right now. Seriously, Tris. You blow my mind sometimes."

She gives me a sultry look as she walks away and admits, "Minds aren't the only things I blow…"

I turn around, snapping my head in her direction, astounded at a comment like that.

She laughs then runs over to me. "Oh, my God, Tobias," she laughs, resting her head against my chest. "I'm kidding. I'm kidding. No," she laughs. "I swear on my life, I'm just kidding."

I roll my eyes and then nudge her off of me as she hysterically laughs. I walk toward the door, then crowed, "You comin'?"

She looks at me with unreadable eyes and an irresistible smile. If I had to guess, though, it'd be that there's a little bit of admiration locked away in there. And if I had another guess, it'd be sadness. I recognize them because I look at her with the same unreadable, admiring, sad eyes every day.

Tris nods. "Yep."

* * *

When we arrive at the mansion that hosts the dinner party, we aren't surprised at what we see.

We currently stand directly in front of the mansion, somewhat gaping. It's humongous. We've seen mansions before, but nothing like this. In the center, the entrance, there stands a large, buff man, likely to act as a bouncer. He holds a clipboard with a list on it, expectedly with names.

Tris clings to my arm beside me, like any lover would. "Are you ready, _Mrs. Lancaster?_ " I tease.

She rolls her eyes, "Yes, _Mr. Lancaster."_

We begin to approach the man with the clipboard, but Tris holds me back. "How will we get in? Our names won't be on the list."

I roll my eyes. "You silly goose," I tell her, "Max has his ways." Smirking, I guide her to walk up to the bouncer. "Gabriel and Annie Lancaster," I tell him.

He looks confused for a moment, and then it clears up. "Yes, sir. Right this way." He gives a polite smile, and then directs his arm inside. "Enjoy your night."

Tris looks up at me, faces closer than they probably should be, and then we turn to walk in.

Around us is a large atrium filled with women in dresses similar to Annie Lancaster's—except hers is absolutely exquisite—and men in tuxedos like mine. The chandelier's crystals are clear as water, and the wallpaper looking like it is from the Victorian Era. The carpet looks like it's also from that era, being a dark maroon with creamy swirls inside. It's hard to tell, though, the color, because there are so many people standing on it that it's practically impossible to see. There are two other separate rooms that I can't see, but the way to it is visible.

We travel to the other rooms and we see that they contain little veggie trays and snacks.

"Even drug lords know how to throw good parties with veggie trays," Tris mumbles.

I nudge her, and she looks at me with a silly, fun smile.

Smiling back down at her, I take her hand in mine and entwine them. We kind of just stand there smiling. It's simple, but also not. _Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication._

"Excuse me," someone interrupts, heckling our little (what I like to consider) moment. "Do I know you two?"

We turn around, hands no longer interlocked. Tris gains confidence, crossing her arms. "Do you know half of the people here?"

He ponders, and then smirks. "My name is Emilio Morales. Call me Morales."

"Annie Lancaster. Call me Annie." Tris smiles and then sticks her hand out. "Oh, my bad," she laughs. "Aren't women supposed to, like, kiss on the right cheek?"

Morales grins. "I like you. But yes, that is Colombian tradition."

Tris reaches her hand out again, as if to spite what he said. "I think I'll stick with the hand shake."

He laughs. "I _really_ like you. Enough to get you a drink. C'mon."

Tris is going with the eccentric, witty, smart-but-plays-dumb girl. A nice touch. It seems to be winning Morales over.

We walk toward what seems to be the kitchen, and he keeps talking. "Annie, who is your friend?" Morales asks, sizing me up.

I take the submissive role in this assignment as the shy guy who got lucky enough to swoon over an outstanding woman. He's not much different from me, really. However, the swooning over part isn't exactly true. Tris and I are stuck together, I suppose. If it had not been for this job, who knows where we'd be right now.

"This is my Gabe. My husband," Tris explains, looking up at me and hugging my arm. "He's my dream come true. He's introverted and I'm extroverted, which is why I think we fit so well together, to be honest."

I nod and politely smile. I then stick my hand out, ready to give a firm handshake.

"Hello," I accost, "nice to meet you, Mr. Morales."

He smirks cockily and says, "Please, please. Just Morales."

 _Ha_ , I think to myself, _he thinks he's taking my lovely lady home with him._

 _She's not mine though,_ I remind myself. _If only._

I snap out of my trance to see Tris making good conversation with Morales.

"Yeah, well, sort of. We're from LA in the U.S. We just decided one day that we wanted to go on the biggest adventure of out lives for the next three months. So, you see, what we did was we drove up through Canada and to Alaska, then took a ferry across the Bering Strait into Russia. We drove _all the way_ through Russia and then hit almost every European country. Then through Spain and into Africa starting out in Morocco. We drove along the west coast then the entire way down to Cape Town, then about halfway back up the East African coast. We left Djibouti and caught a ferry to Yemen through to Bab Al-Mandab Strait. Then we hit Iran, India, China, and then we went back up the eastern Russian coast. We went back into Alaska then drove across Canada and then down the Eastern American coast. Then down the eastern Mexican coast. We drove down to Cape Horn in Chile along the eastern coast of South America. We traveled back up the eastern coast to head back home, and now we're here," Tris finishes.

That's too detailed of a cover story to be false. Tris never told me about going on any world adventure. It suddenly strikes me that the woman I'm falling in love with I may not even know in depth.

"Wow," is all Morales can say. "You two must be quite the adventurers. You know, to drive all the way across the entire world."

She giggles. "Well, you know, we got our hands on some stuff that helped with that, if you know what I mean. A little, ah, Basa."

Tris, Uriah Pedrad, Christina White, and I studied all of the slang terms for cocaine, and that was Tris's favorite, apparently. We know what we're going into before a mission.

He glares. "How do you know about me?"

Tris shrugs, leaning close, as if to tell a secret. "I have my ways."

Morales gives a skeptical look, but smiles. "You… You are strange girl, you know that, Annie?"

Tris shrugs. "I've been told that once or twice."

"I'll—" Morales begins, but is cut off by a friend.

"Moralessss!" one shouts with open arms. "Que ha sido un largo tiempo, mi amigo."

"Si, si."

His friend drags him away, and Tris and I are left alone.

I must have a distraught look on my face, because she assured, "Don't worry. He'll be back."

I chuckle. "I know."

She lists her head in curiosity. "How so?"

"You're the most intriguing woman I know." I pause. "Scratch that. The most intriguing _human being_ I know."

Tris rolls her eyes. "Not true."

I roll my eyes back at her. "Very true."

I grab her hand, taking her soft fingers in mine, playing with them as I stare her dead in the eye. "Let's dance, _Annie_ , my love," I say, dragging her to the center of the room.

"But, Gabe, sweetie, there's no music," she argues, laughing.

"'He that lives in hope,'" I quote, "'dances without music.'"

We begin to casually waltz across the carpeted floor, and others start to join us, while others stare. Tris and I only stare into each other's eyes.

"You never told me you traveled all the way across the world," I say softly.

She softly snickers. "Silly, that was a cover story."

I shake my head. "I could see through that in a Peloponnesian minute."

She gasps. "Meg said that in _Hercules_ ," she grins.

I shrug, letting her wonder how I could possibly know such a thing.

"No," she protests suddenly. "No talking about _Hercules_ or my world adventures. We are here for the mission. We need to focus in on Morales. What's our game plan?"

I groan. "We already have the hard part accomplished. You've swooned him over and he totally wants to nail you. All we have to do is get him high enough to give us intel for the next location."

"Tobias," she scolds, "there's more to it. What do we do if Morales wants us to do it with him?"

"He probably won't even notice if we swipe it behind us," I decide. "And besides, it shouldn't even get to that point anyway. Let's just get him drunk enough on Colombian aguardiente. I mean, drunk people talk."

"Ugh," she complains. "You _know_ it's never as simple as that."

I shrug. "A boy can dream, can't he?"

She laughs and begins to retort something funny, but is interrupted.

"Annie, my love," Morales chuckles with a grin, "where were we?"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: But She's Looking at You

The lights are incredible. I feel like I'm on top of the world. Like I can do anything. Like I can be anything. Yet, at the same time, I feel so insignificant. These lights portray people. We created these lights. We created these lights so we could stay up at night writing about them. So we could compare our significance or insignificance. The lights are more than flowing electrons; They are things that help us achieve both greatness and inadequacy. They are not just lights. However, the rush of being this high isn't too great. My palms sweat, but I conceal it.

"Right, Gabe?" I hear Tris ask suddenly.

I smile, winding myself back together. "Right."

"Anyway," Tris continues, "can I get you another aguardiente?"

Morales hesitates. "I don't know… That was my fourth. Gotta save some candy for later, if you know what I mean," he nudges Tris with a wink.

She rolls her eyes. "C'mon, baby," Tris says to me. "Help me get some drinks."

My heart beats in double time for a second when she speaks with that sultry voice of hers. "Of course."

We go to the door that connects from the roof to the mansion. When we step inside, it becomes significantly cooler. The Colombian air is not very kind to my skin.

Tris and I casually walk down the stairs and to the bar area.

"Hey," Tris beckons, calling down the attractive bartender. "Can I have a Stella and two Aguardiente Sours?"

"Can I have _you_?" he asks, chuckling.

She smiles at him flirtatiously, leaning in closer. "Stella and two Aguardiente Sours, please."

Tris turns back to me, smiling.

"You are the biggest flirt ever," I tell her. "You use those big, beautiful blue eyes to get your way. Even with me."

"What?" she mutters to me. "Do _not_."

I snicker at her reaction. "How many Sours have you had?"

"Only two," Tris defends. "This is just my third."

"Tris," I softly warn. "I'm not trying to be overbearing or controlling, but this should probably be your last. We still have a job to do."

She sighs. "I know. I'll swoon the bartender to make me a virgin one next time, alright?"

I smirk. "This'll be my last Stella and your last alcoholic drink. Sound good?"

She grins. "Perfect."

The bartender hands us our drinks, throwing a wink at Tris while he's at it, too.

As we walk back up the stairs, I apologize just outside the door to the roof. "Sorry about earlier. I tend to zone out often. Just, like, grab my hand and hold it or something if I do."

She smiles. "Will do. One more thing: Act like you actually love me," Tris commands.

 _That doesn't require acting._

"You're acting like just a close friend. An _awkward_ close friend," she laughs. "Don't be afraid to get closer to me. Treat me how you would treat the love of your life."

 _Already do._

I only smile, not speaking my thoughts, like usual. "Will do."

Tris gives me a funny smile. An unreadable one. One with a hint of reverence, possibly. But, again, with her, it's always impossible to tell. She shakes her head, though, then opens the door to the roof.

I only follow, staying close. Close as a husband would. I lay my arm on her lower back since she carries two Sours and I have a free hand.

Tris looks up at me, giving me a look of approval. As if to say _well done_ with her eyes.

"Here you are, Morales," Tris grins, handing him his Sour Aguardiente. "Sorry that took so long. Bartender wouldn't quit hitting on me," she complains, using as an excuse for our actions.

He waves it off. "No, no, you are fine. Anyway, my love, what _were_ we talking about?" he promptly asks.

Tris ponders. "Oh! I believe it was us talking about your endeavors throughout your lifetime, right?"

Morales nods. "Yes, yes. That's what it was. Let's move onto you. Tell me, where was your favorite place on you and your husband's _little world tour_?" he condescendingly asks.

I speak up for the first time practically the entire night. "We really enjoyed Russia, right, honey?"

Tris almost looks surprised that I knew she was going to say Russia. What she doesn't know is that I actually pay attention when she speaks. Tris loves Russia. Maybe not the people, but she adores the land and the cities. She's spoken of many cities, but Leningrad, more commonly known as St. Petersburg, is the one she seems to admire the most.

She nods, then grabs my free hand. "Yeah. We did. Lots of time to think while driving through the barren, snowy wasteland," Tris chuckles.

"If I reminisce properly, your favorite was St. Petersburg, right, Annie?"

She looks at me with eyes that are, this time, very readable and filled with appreciation. "Yes. Leningrad. But I bet you don't know why it's a habit of mine to call it Leningrad instead of St. Petersburg."

I roll my eyes. "That's easy," I state. "You often read books that are based in the era or written in the era of when it still known as Leningrad. So it was, like, 1922 to 1991?"

Tris smirks. "19 _24_ -1991."

Tris and I stare at each other for a second, and I intentionally try to antagonize Morales. The latter is not currently on my mind though. The fact that her lips are inches from mine doesn't do anything but faze me. I know I will not lose it now though. Not here.

"You two must really know each other well," Morales interrupts.

I clear my throat, as does Tris.

"Yeah," she says. "We do."

"How long have you known each other?" he asks inquisitively.

"About five years, I believe," I answer.

She nods, laughing. "We became friendly at the 2012 End of the World Party four years ago, though."

I laugh, it being entirely true. "That's right. We were kind of enemies before that."

Morales creases his brows. "Enemies?"

Nodding, I tell him, "Indeed, enemies. She was top in our class at Brown University, and I was second. There was a bit of a rivalry there."

He nods. "Alright, alright. So, real talk here. Why are you guys here? Not in Colombia, but in my home? You seem like smart kids, why waste your life on cocaine? I do this because I have nowhere to go. No other life to lead. You two will have bright futures."

Tris and I don't say anything at first. We don't really know _what_ to say. His reasoning is perfectly sensible. When he's drunk, he must tell the truth more often than when he's sober.

"You're right," Tris tells him. "Entirely. We don't do it often. We just need to let loose a little, you know?"

He nods. "Okay. Tell you what—I give you an ounce. On me."

Tris fakes a grin. "Morales, you really don't have to."

He shrugs. "Arubans won't know the difference."

I keep my cool, not letting on that he revealed the next shipment port.

"Okay, Morales. Whatever you say."

He drunkenly laughs. "Say, would you guys like to come to Aruba with me? On the cargo ship I've got a whole wing designed so I could travel on the boat with the products. Mucho buenos!"

Tris glances at me. "We can't. We're on our way to Cape Horn, remember?"

"Ahhh," he argues, "c'mon. We're hitting Aruba, San Juan… nice vacation spots."

We act like we aren't completely sold on the deal.

"Puerto Plata, Punta Cana?" he offers. "No?"

Tris shrugs. "But no Cape Horn on that list."

"Puerto Padre and Havana. That's all I have left to offer, mi amigos. Well, those, and Miami, which is in your home country."

I shrug, shaking off his offer, and Tris shakes her head.

"My friends, you have betrayed me!" he acts, feigning hurt. "I offer you siete wonderful spots for people like you… But nevertheless, I understand your endeavors. But I cannot give you a free ounce. Everything I have is on my ship. Lo siento, mi amors."

I feign a look of disappointment. "That's alright, Morales. Next time we're in Colombia, though, we'll definitely take you up on that offer."

Morales leads us to the door. "You better!" he laughs.

He holds open the door for Tris and she steps inside, then closes it before I may enter along with her.

I give him a challenging look as he presses his back against the door.

"You know," he slurs, "I really dislike you."

I laugh. "I apologize if I've done something to offend you."

He continues smiling. "Your wife is a treasure, and a girl like her doesn't come around very often."

I smugly grin. "I'm well aware. I love her with every ounce of my heart and as much as you believe I don't treat her right, you are wrong. You believe you can treat her better. You believe that she is wasting her time with a guy like me. An ordinary guy who somehow got lucky enough to win her. But she is not a _prize to be won._ She is my equal, and we treat each other with respect. She doesn't want me to treat her like fragile princess. She would not cheat on me, especially with a drug lord. Now, Mr. Morales, as much fun as I had tonight, I think it'd be best if we were to head our separate ways."

He stands there, astounded, then moves out of the way. I open the door and step through it, Morales not having the courage to follow.

I am met with Tris's beautiful but worried blue eyes. "What happened?" she whispers. "What'd he say?"

Shrugging, I grab her hand. "Exactly what I expected him to."

Tris pauses, midway through the staircase. She on a higher step than I, making her about equal to my height.

She crosses her arms, glaring with those eyes of hers. "Tobias. Why do I have the sinking feeling that it was probably about me, considering how he's been shooting daggers with his eyes at you," she laughs.

I shrug indifferently. "Possibly."

"Tobias…" she trails off. "What'd you tell him?

"Just that you're mine and he'll never have the pleasure of being in your presence is all."

She glares. "There's more."

I lean in, closer, and little by little. "All that matters," I tell her, "is that we're leaving and that we'll never see him again and that we're alive and that we're together on an adventure."

She looks at me with eyes deeper than the middle of the ocean and wears a smile.

Somehow, I will my legs to move down the stairs as I latch on to her hand.

We weave through the crowds and finally step out of the mansion. I lead her to a cab that was reserved for people at this particular party.

Tris dials Max's number as we walk toward the cab, keeping her voice low. "…And Havana. Yes. Cuba. Four in the morning?" she asks incredulously. "Alright. Fine. Yeah. You too." Tris presses the End Call button.

She sighs, then begins to speak to me. "Our flight leaves at four o'clock in the morning," she complains, getting in the taxi with me.

"Four?" I groan. "Ugh, why so early?"

She smiles at me, then talks to the man driving the cab. "Calle 80 No. 51 B-25, por favor."

He nods. "Si, señora."

"Really?" I ask again. "Four in the morning?"

She nods. "Four in the morning."

I copy her groan. "And it's already…" I say, checking my watch for the time, "Holy fuck, it's already two A.M.!"

Her mouth gapes and then she droops her head onto my shoulder. "So we get back to the hotel and sleep for an hour?"

I shrug. "We should be able to leave by 3:30… I mean we _are_ within walking distance of the airport. And it's not that long for security."

She nods. "Alright."

As we ride home, I notice Tris's breathing becoming more even, and that she's fallen asleep on my shoulder in that short period of time.

When we arrive, I don't really want to wake her, but I must. "Tris," I whisper as we reach the curb. "C'mon, honey. We just need to go up to the room."

She whines as I pay the cab driver and thank him.

I rest my hand on her back and lead her up to the room. She grabs her handbag then swipes the card.

"Mehhhh," she moans, then mumbles something incomprehensible. Tris proceeds to collapse on the bed.

I roll my eyes and I take off her heels, necklace, earrings, and bracelet for her. I think I may hear somewhat of a coherent acknowledgment or thank you.

I cave in to my bed, and I am taken away by my dreams not minutes later.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Unfair

I awaken to a buzzing of my phone, and rise because I know I must. I throw on jeans and a simple DC Redskins shirt. After doing so, I notice that Tris is still in bed, rolling around uncomfortably.

Leaning down in front of her, she groggily opens her eyes. "No," she whines. "I can't." Suddenly, she grabs my hand, forcefully bringing me down to the bed.

"Beatrice," I scold. She wraps her arms around my torso, pulling me closer, but I resist. Well, I at least _try_ to. She's hard to fend off. Tris nuzzles her face into my shoulder, willing herself to go back to sleep.

 _This is_ so _not fair,_ I think to myself. _Friends don't do this._

"Okay," I say aloud. "I guess we'll just miss our flight, which leaves in about ten minutes."

Tris springs awake, wide eyes more alert than ever. She must've changed in the middle of the night. However, her makeup is practically black on her eyes from last night and her hair is up in a far from perfect bun.

"Oh, my God, why didn't you say something earlier?" she yells. "Ugh, Tobias, I'm gonna fucking…" she rambles as she sprints to the bathroom with her clothes in hand.

"Tris," I yell with a chuckle in my voice, "We have, like, more than a half hour until it leaves. Calm down."

She steps outside the bathroom in her giant sweatshirt. "Does it really leave in 30?" she seethes.

I give her a look after glancing at the clock. "Yes. Thirty-two minutes."

She groans and stomps back into the bathroom.

While she's getting ready, I gather my duffel bag with toiletries.

 _Who even says toiletries anymore?_ I ask myself, my mind straying. _Well, what other word would I use?_ _Accessories? Bathroom shit?_

"Tobias!" she yells, laughing, attempting to get my attention. "What's on your mind?"

I laugh. "Toiletries."

She chuckles. "I'm not even going to ask."

Tris gathers her bag and _toiletries,_ and then asks, "Ready?"

I simply nod.

My mind stops thinking about toiletries and starts to wander yet again to the unfairness of my situation. Life is unfair, people tell me. And it is. Entirely. No argument. But fairness is something I can at least _try_ to achieve. I will never stop striving for it. Does anyone deserve to endure the torture and pleasure I go through on a daily basis? My desire and rationality are often pitted against each other, and rationality almost always wins. _No._ Every time it wins. Every. Time. My desire is irrational, but also the most rational thing on the planet. On one side, it's entirely rational because it's simple animal instinct. Mating. In some cases, desire to have a partner. One the other side, it's entirely irrational. We've been best friends for three years since Peary, so what makes me decide now that I might lose it?

 _Lose it,_ I think. _Why do you always rephrase things to avoid admitting you have feelings?_ I scold myself. _Fuck._

Before I know it, Tris is snapping her fingers in front of my face, and we're standing in front of the security guards at the Barranquilla International Airport. I take off my shoes and set my carry-on on the conveyor belt. As soon as I step through the gray box, then put my shoes back on and grab my bag. Tris soon follows suit.

"Coffee?" she asks with a smile.

I follow her and order a medium black. She scowls at me when I pay for her medium three cream and three sugar iced coffee, but I just smirk and blow it off.

When we arrive to our gate, they've already boarded everyone, even though the plane leaves in a mere five minutes.

We stuff our bags—minus our snacks, books, and laptops—in the storage compartments up above.

Tris takes the window seat in my place due to the fact that heights are one of my most terrifying inner thoughts.

I hear someone shout, "Tris!"

Agent White. Christina White. Tris's best female friend. Christina walks up to our row and gives a pained, half-assed smile, likely not having the energy to deal with Christina's perky attitude at 3:57 in the morning.

"Hi, Chris," she drags.

"Do you want to come and sit with me? I can make Uriah switch with you."

"Ah," she hesitates. "I don't know. I was planning on sleeping the whole time. I'm pretty exhausted since we didn't get back until two this morning."

Chris groans. "Fine. But when we get back to Langley we're going to dinner at some point. It's been too long."

Tris tiredly smiles. "Okay. I'll make sure of it, White."

This must satisfy her, because she grins and struts back to her seat.

She moans and collapses back into her seat. Her head drifts onto my shoulder after a short second.

"Tobias," she groans, "you're my favorite pillow."

 _So unfair_.

I only chuckle, and then I wait for the plane to take off.

* * *

"Life isn't fair."

"I know."

"So why are you complaining?"

"Because I deserve to feel sorry for myself every once in a while."

"Four."

"Zeke."

I argue with him over Tris and the level of unfairness I am currently at. Around me are the Pedrad brothers trying to balance my desire and rationality at the bar nearest to Langley. They're the only ones I can vent to about my issues.

"Have you ever thought of, I don't know, telling the truth?" Uriah asks, sipping his beer.

I look at him as if he were the dumbest human being alive. "Of course I've thought of that, genius. It's not as simple as that."

Uriah looks down because he knows I'm right. He simply nods back to answer.

"Of all people, you should know what I mean, man," I tell him. "Marlene practically held in you in a chokehold until you grew the balls to get out of it."

Uriah shrugs. "The friend zone is torturous."

I shake my head. "No. Do not even try to put me in the category of a friend-zoned guy, because I'm not. 'I do everything a boyfriend does and she talks to me about her love life but I get no benefits.' I am not some typical guy who complains about not getting benefits. As if—As if the only reason to be a good friend or _decent fucking human_ is to get something in exchange. As if I put in my hours as a nice guy and sex is the pay. Sex is not a transaction. She does not owe me anything. I don't want the sex—I mean, I want that eventually, just not initially. I want a relationship above all. I want everything about her. Her attitude, her beautiful, messy mind, and her humor… I want every bit. I want to know that she is mine. Sex will never be as important as her mind. Feeling her will never be as important."

Uriah nods, but Zeke challenges me.

"If feelings her will never be as important," Zeke reasons, "then why do you want a relationship? You guys really do act like a couple but without touching."

I shrug. "I'm okay with the way we are now, but something inside me will just always want her. I want to be able to call her mine and show her off to my family and take her on dates and hold her to make her feel better and the same for me. I want to have the deeper connection that the physicality brings as well. There are so many reasons, Zeke."

He smirks, giving me a knowing look. "You really do like her."

"I love her." I sip my beer, giving him all the answer he needs.

"It is kind of unfair, isn't it?" Uriah asks, giving his insight. "She's kind of taking advantage of you."

I crease my brows, waiting for him to explain.

"Think about it," he goes on. "She stays at your house more often than not, you sleep in the same bed, she brings you down to the bed so you can hold her…"

I shake my head. "I disagree. She just thinks we're close friends, I'm pretty sure. I don't think she wants any more or less."

"But you don't know," Zeke points out.

"That's an accurate statement, yes," I declare.

Uriah suggests. "So play it by ear."

"How do you mean?"

He breathes out. "I don't know… I guess what I mean is that you shouldn't rush anything or blurt out your feelings. I'm saying that you should see where your relationship with her leads. See if she makes any other advances. And if the moment is right… Well, go for it."

"What if she, like, freaks out and runs away or something?" I throw into question.

Uriah rolls his eyes. "I'm fairly certain that will not happen. If it does though, just let it happen. You two will fall back into place as close friends. No harm done."

"So… when should I do it?" I ask.

Zeke puts his hand on his forehead. "You dumbass, you can't just set a certain date and say 'that's when I'm going to do it.' You have to do it when you just know that nothing else is significant in the world that that is the only that feels truly _right_. Whether that be tomorrow, in a week, month, year, or decade, one day that time will be right. I promise you that."

I give Zeke a skeptical look. "Since when did you become a good advice giver?"

He shrugs. "Since my best friend became a whiney ass baby about his love life."

I scoff. "False."

"True," Zeke teases, shrugging.

I roll my eyes and check the time. "Well," I say calmly. "Fuck me. I was supposed to be back at my place five minutes ago so Tris could walk with me to the airport. We leave for Yaoundé in an hour and a half."

"See ya, my dude," Uriah says.

"Hey," Zeke says, grabbing my arm. "Make physical contact. Don't get nervous. Just… You'll be fine, man. Okay?"

I nod, smirking. "Thanks, brother. We should be back late tomorrow."

"Wait, you're leaving for Cameroon the same day you got back from Barranquilla?" Uriah asks.

I nod. "Unfortunately. Everything should run pretty smoothly. Easy mission. See ya, guys."

They nod, and I head out, ready for the next endeavor to embark on with my favorite person.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Why?

 _this chapter SUCKS lol sry_

* * *

The flight to Cameroon is anything but short. We just boarded at around 8 o'clock PM—D.C. time. We should arrive around 8 o'clock PM Cameroon time—An entire day later. We will stay in Cameroon for one night. The flight leaves at 4 PM the next day.

Our mission is to obtain an asset—Nadine Laurie—and bring her to America. She has intel about Cameroonian government officials associated with American bureaucrats. Nadine Laurie is the daughter of President Lionel Laurie. Nadine's mother passed away a few mere months ago, and ever since then the populous has been wary of President Laurie's callous tendencies toward his family, and so has the American government. The abuse toward Nadine has been both physical and verbal—only at the age of fifteen. What the American government believes is that her father has been breast ironing her. The process of breast ironing is pounding of teenage and prepubescent girls where they will wrap a tight band around the girl's chest, and it will therefore make the breasts disappear or halt growth. It is done to prevent males from thinking the girl is old enough to be sexually viable to predators. It is supposed to be to protect young women, but with her being important to the government, there is no reason for him to do this to his own daughter. There is no reason to do it _period. Ever._

"It's sad that we live in a world where we women feel like we have to be physically mutilated in order to think we are safe from rape and harassment," Tris suddenly says in a soft whisper. Most people are sleeping on this small plane, so we keep our voices down.

"Nadine didn't choose this," I tell her.

"I know that," Tris defends, "but do you realize how often it occurs in Cameroon? Mothers often encourage it among their young girls, typically younger than Nadine. We need to start teaching 'don't rape' instead of 'don't get raped.'"

I nod. "I know, Tris, I know. We need to stop teaching victims that it's _their_ faults or that they were asking for it. The only cause of rape is the rapist."

She closes her eyes. "We will never get the equality we deserve," she says in distress. "Even men, too. A boy recently got raped and then got made fun of by peers, saying he 'should have enjoyed it.' Boys use the phrase 'boys get raped too' but then go on spite themselves. Look how they fucking handled that."

"If it helps," I say to her, "I believe you are my equal. I believe all women are my equal."

She tiredly smiles at me. "I know. That's why you're my best friend, Tobias."

I throw her a pained smile, but I don't think she can read it because of the darkness.

Suddenly I feel her hand lie on top of mine on the armrest separating us. She moves to interlace them, and I let her. We don't move for a long time, and that time I will indeed cherish.

Best friends don't hold hands.

I should just do it.

Life is short.

I turn my head away from the window, and she turns her head to me. We briefly make eye contact, and she lays her head on my shoulder.

I hate myself.

* * *

We arrive on schedule to Yaoundé, Cameroon's capital. The city, in a general sense, is dry. It's not a beautiful city—many of the cities we travel to are like this. In order to find the beauty in cities, you must dig deeper than surface level. You must find the secrets that lie within the walls and in the alleys. You cannot simply know a city until you've lived there and have been an actual local.

From studying Nadine's daily routine, we know when she's available and when she's not. After playing tennis at 1 o'clock, that's when she's available. Tris will try to talk to her and persuade her, because Tris is more and understanding of the situation Nadine is in. Tris, as a woman, knows she must be there for her sisters, just like how I would be there for my brothers.

Tris and I currently approach the tennis courts at which Nadine Laurie practices. The courts are rather easy to get into, seeing as they are public.

Nadine angrily slams the balls down on the other side of the court. She grabs another ball from the basket, repeating what she previously did.

Tris bravely leads into the court.

"Excusez-moi, Nadine. Préférez-vous français ou en anglais?"

"English," she answers dryly. "How may I help you two?"

Tris reaches out to shake her hand—something only men typically do with other men. Tris is aware of what she is doing though. Everything she does has purpose. "My name is Tris. You're Nadine Laurie, correct?"

She glares, shaking Tris's hand. "Yes."

Tris nods. "I hope I am not too direct by saying this, but we're from the American government. We're looking at you to be an asset. You can come to America, live there, escape this life… You can restart your life, Nadine."

Her eyes widen. What has Tris done? She knows we're never supposed be direct; that we're supposed ease them into it. Get them to trust us. Tris has never been that reckless before, so I know there must be some ulterior motif.

"Identification?"

Tris and I reach for our badges.

"Restart… my life," she drawls. "In America."

Tris confirms by nodding. "You can get an education, friends, a better family… Treated right."

She looks down, whispering, "How do you know?"

Neither of us says anything for a second.

 _"_ _How do you know?"_ she demands through gritted teeth.

Tris sighs. "We monitor suspicious behavior, and we know you overhear your father."

She calms. "An asset."

"Yes, Nadine," Tris answers carefully.

"Working for the American government?"

"No," Tris says immediately, "no. You'll be attending high school like anyone else. Just… providing information for us when needed."

"Any other teenager?" Nadine asks.

"Any other teenager."

"How would I ever get away from him?" she gulped.

Tris shrugs. "It's simple. You collect your things and we leave. Write a note saying you simply ran away…if you're willing."

She almost lets out a laugh. "I abhor him. I will never stop trying to leave this place. When do we leave?"

"Immediately," Tris answers. "The flight leaves at four o'clock."

She nods. "Okay. Okay. Am I really doing this? Oh my Allah, I'm doing this," Nadine mumbles.

"Ms. Laurie, we need to get you to pack your things swiftly and promptly."

"Okay. Um… Yeah, all right. I'll walk back over right now."

We escort her to the palace, and we wait outside, a street over. We remind her to leave a note and act like everything is fine.

"Could you do it?" Tris asks as we wait on a bench.

I turn toward her, and her toward I. I give her a confused look.

"Leave," she explains. "Could you leave?"

I flinch, thinking back to my own past. Now is as good time as any to tell her. "I did."

"You mean—"

"Yeah," I tell her, looking straight ahead. "When I was sixteen."

She doesn't say anything. I know she knows that I was hit when I was younger, but now I'm just confirming it. Tris simply grabs my hand, as if to comfort me. I don't need the comfort, but I simply cannot refuse it.

"It's the reason I'm in this job. I don't need any covers for my family."

Tris remains silent for a minute. "Where… Where did you go?"

"To my best friend's house. They took me in for two years. I planned to go to my aunt's, but they refused."

"Zeke and Uriah's," she infers. "You mentioned being best friends since… forever."

I nod. "We decided to join the CIA together. And now… Well, let's just say that he thinks you are… stealing me away from him."

She laughs. "Stealing you?"

"You know Zeke," I laugh. "He's a mad man."

Tris smiles. "Yeah," she says. "He is."

"Zeke always—Holy balls, is it really already three o'clock?

"Is it?" I ask. "Do you think Nadine is in trouble?"

Tris doesn't say anything for a moment. "No. Leaving your family is hard, even if you're… not treated right. There will always be a moment of hesitation."

"How would you know, Tris?" I snap, removing my hand from hers. "You've never been in that situation. You can't judge what she would do."

Tris's eyebrows rise, and then she scoffs, but stays rational and calm. "Sorry, but were you with me? Were you there during my childhood? You don't know my past. We've never talked about it. So before you start judging what I have and haven't been through, check yourself, Four, because you may have gone through the same thing, but you are not in the place to judge what _I've_ gone through and how shitty my life was before I turned it around."

"Tris… I didn't mean—" I begin.

"You know, I wasn't as lucky as you, Four. I had nowhere to turn to. My broken home was all I had. My mother died, and my father was the biggest piece of shit you'd ever met. My brother was the only person I ever had. My escape was college when I was _nineteen years old._ I didn't have anyone to take me in, Four. You think I'm too quick to judge? Look in the goddamn mirror." She stands to walk away, but doesn't move her legs.

"Jesus Christ, Tris. I had no idea," I plead, standing up. She flinches. _Can anything else go wrong?_ "I'm sorry. I wasn't going touch you… I just… I'm an ass, and I make assumptions. I'm—"

"Guys, are we ready?" asks a breathless Nadine. She carries a bag on her back and one in her hand.

Tris nods, unable to make eye contact with me. "Yeah," she says softly. "We're ready."

* * *

When we arrive at the airport, the tension is thick in the air. Nadine stands between us, hugging her bags, and Tris and I a few feet away from Nadine. It's 3:30, so they've already started boarding for the flight to DC. On the plane, there are three seats per row on the left side, so Nadine takes the window seat, Tris the middle, and I have the aisle seat.

The plane is packed by 4:01, and the pilot comes on speaker and tells up we're going to be lifting off.

"Tris," I say once we lift off. "You know how sorry I am about earlier, right?"

She turns toward the window where Nadine rests her eyes and uses the ear buds Tris lent her.

I put my forehead in my hand, and then look back up.

She turns back toward me.

"Do you remember Cape Town, about three weeks ago?" she asks softly.

I nod. "Couldn't forget it."

"Remember me saying, 'People with happy families don't become spies. A bad childhood is the perfect cover for a covert operative in the CIA. They don't trust anyone, they're used to getting smacked around, and they never get homesick'?"

I nod. "Distinctly."

"That didn't clue you in one bit, did it?" she says, with a hint of a storm coming on.

"Tris, I knew that you had a bad past, but I knew you didn't like talking about it."

"You couldn't use that brain of yours to guess that 'getting smacked around' kind of implied that I, you know, got abused?"

I shake my head. "I thought it was just an example. I… Tris, I'm sorry. I thought you were putting yourself in shoes that were too big when you said you knew what she would do. How she would feel. And I'm sorry for that."

Tris nods. "Okay. I get where you're coming from, but I don't get why you got so defensive."

I take a deep breath, and then I begin to explain. "When I was a kid, I told my best friend—who, at the time, was not Zeke—what was happening. He basically said he knew how I felt because his dad spanked him once or something. So I was livid. Anyway, that's not excuse to snap at you."

"You're right," she says. "But it's fine." Tris grabs my hand, and this time it brings me comfort that I absolutely need.

"You—You don't actually think I'd hit you, do you?" I ask, looking for assurance.

She creases her eyebrows and shakes her head. "It was the moment and the topic. Just… flashbacks and terrible memories arose during the conversation. I know you would never, ever do that." She moves her thumb back and forth on my hand. "I promise."

I nod. "Right. Okay. Just… checking."

She smiles. "Good. Everything's cleared up."

 _Things have done everything_ but _clear up. Why are you holding my hand? Why do you keep holding my hand, over and over again? Why do you get your lips close to mine then pull back? Why? For the love of God, why?_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: But Darling

3 more chapters until u cry hahaa

* * *

"Let me take you somewhere."

"Where's somewhere?"

"Somewhere."

"Okay."

As Tris takes me to her special somewhere, I don't say anything or ask where this somewhere is. I simply go along with where this somewhere may be. We're walking, but Tris hails a cab. It doesn't cost much since it's just a mile or two away.

We arrive at an apartment complex, presumably Tris's place. She's never taken me here before, which I know is somewhat of a _ginormous deal._ It's a step in the right direction, and a very right direction it is.

She unlocks her door, and I step through the way as she smiles at me.

"This is my home. I am hardly ever here, but it's the place I can come when I need to think, or get away from your annoying ass," she teases with a light laugh. "But this is not a house. It's a home. I've made it my own."

I look around. There are paintings upon paintings upon paintings, a framed letter that I have yet to look at, a collection of books, and pictures all around the wall. The paintings are abstract but also distinct, and there has to be _at least_ two hundred books, and the pictures are of the land she's traveled to, and the others with Christina and her endeavors together.

Tris grabs my wrist, and then leads me into her room. "This is my room. Lavender is my favorite color." There are clothespins on top of each lavender wall, a string connecting them. On the pins are pictures of Tris, land, Christina, and myself, which surprises me. There are even more books on each side of her bed, and there is no TV. Only in the living room. Last but certainly not least, across one wall is the biggest map I've ever seen in my life. In it are pins connected with string.

"I painted this map of the world across my wall. Each color of string represents one road trip," she explains. "As you can see, the blue is my first independent road trip, from DC to San Francisco when I was 16. The green is the road trip that hit every single state in America but Hawaii and Alaska. That was with Christina my junior year of college. The pink one is the longest, spreading all the way along the coast of every continent but Australia. I have literally driven across the world."

I can only stare at the map. "Mother of God," I chuckle. "You've been… everywhere."

"Except Australia," she grumbles. "Godforsaken island. I can get to damn Antarctica but not Australia," Tris jokes with a laugh.

I smirk. "This is amazing. All I do is keep a list on my phone of the places I've been."

Tris shrugs. "This map is amazing and all… but the wanderlust in me will never be fulfilled. There will always be somewhere I haven't traveled, and it just makes me so mad," she laughs. "But I can certainly try, can't I?"

I shake my head at the woman I fall in love with more and more each day. "I suppose you can."

She shrugs again. "That's all I wanted to show you. I wanted to let you in on more pieces of me. You… can leave now… if you want," she tells me, scratching the back of her neck and eyes on the ground. "Unless you want to stay," Tris says quickly. "You can. If you want. We leave for the Azores Islands in the middle of the afternoon so it doesn't really matter but then again we have to go to the office tomorrow morning so there's also that and..." she rants. She looks up, meeting my eyes. "Do you want to stay?"

I don't answer for a minute, only staring her in the beautiful eyes she possesses. There seems to be hope within them, but also signs of uncertainty.

"There seem to be a lot of reasons why I shouldn't," I eventually answer.

She nods and then looks back down, neither of us making a move. Suddenly she looks back up and asks, "Do you want to stay?"

I let a hint of a smile cross my face. "Kind of."

She smirks. "Only kind of?"

Rolling my eyes, I tell her the truth. "Okay. With every fiber of my being I'd wholeheartedly like to stay the night at your luxurious apartment, Beatrice Prior," I tease.

She glares. "Shut up. I'll get blankets for you on the couch," she tells me. I must have a slight look of disappointment on my face, because she says, "Unless you'd like to, you know, sleep with me. I'm sure my bed is much more comfortable than my old couch."

Why is she so hesitant all of the sudden? She usually exudes confidence and doesn't act shy about her intentions. And now that she's acting like… well, shy. Yet, she's practically exuding sexual innuendos.

"It's up to you," I say awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck. "You know… It's not really any different from my place. Just a different location. And bed."

She nods. "You know what? You're right. We do it practically every night we're in America. And sometimes out of the country if there's only a single bed. No biggie."

I nod, and we just stand there. "So Dominos and Crash Bandicoot?" I suggest.

Tris glares then smirks. "Alternative idea: Marco's cheesy bread and Disney movies?"

I roll my eyes. "Disney?"

She groans. "Oh, c'mon. Please? My favorite is _Tangled_ , then _Mulan_. Then _Finding Nemo_. Oh, and _Hercules_! Also _Aladdin_. Point is," Tris laughs, "I love Disney movies."

"Why?" I laugh.

Tris shrugs. "I don't know. I guess they remind me of when I was innocent. A child. Not someone who just shoots people sometimes."

Crossing my arms, I glare. "On one condition: we watch _Monsters Inc_."

She grins. "I'm totally down for that."

"You thought I wouldn't come around to you, 'round to you, you know I was down for you, down for you," I sing.

She creases her eyes, not knowing the song I sing.

"Now I'm wishin' that I never bowed to you, bowed to you. I'm in this shit I can't get out of, I'm not proud of."

I must have exclamation points in my eyeballs, because she exclaims, "What?"

"I'm runnin' outta time to hold you close," I tell her, pulling her against me. "Runnin' outta time to be your man, yeah, I'm just lost in this moment, yeah."

She stares up at me, and I down at her. There's a beautiful look in her eye, and almost kiss her right then and there.

I don't.

"Fuck Disney movies," I say, laughing, then pulling away. "We're getting drunk and listening to Blackbear."

"Tobias," she warns, "we have to work tomorrow."

I roll my eyes. "Not puking-our-brains-out drunk, just… acting-like-children-without-a-care-in-the-world drunk," I tell her with a smile.

She crosses her arms. "Fine. I'll order cheesy bread while you get out the beers?"

* * *

Hours later, I'm fairly tipsy. We dance around to 'Deadroses' by Blackbear, and since my brain is too dysfunctional to remember any lyrics, I hum along as we dance around the living room.

I grab Tris's hand, and then twirl her. Her back is pressed against my torso then I unravel her, and she spins out of my grasp.

She giggles her beautiful giggle.

"You," I slur, "are so beautiful. I just love you so much, Trissy."

She laughs. "Tobias, I love you too. You're so much fun. Your face is so… punctual."

I'm confused. "Huh?"

"I mean, beautiful. Ha. That's from _Aladdin_. The genie is a bee and he's suggesting Aladdin gives her a compliment, and Genie accidentally suggests punctual. Aladdin recovers with calling her beautiful."

Laughing, I tease, "How many drinks have you had?"

"'Excuse me? Are you lookin' at me? Did you rub my lamp? Did you wake me up? Did you bring me here? And all the sudden you're walkin' out on me? I don't think so!'" she yells, as if to start a fight between us. "'Not right now. You're getting your wishes so sit down!'" I laugh again, tears probably on my cheeks by now. "Trissy, you're so—so silly." She sips her beer and nudges me. Easily, I fall on the couch. My balance is terribly off due to my intoxication. "Intoxication," I chuckle. "It's such a funny word." "Right. Like, if you say it over and over and over and over. Intoxication. Intoxication. Intoxication. Intoxication. Intoxication." I repeat the word too. "Haha," I laugh. "You're right."

"I know," Tris agrees as she falls on top of me. "I usually am."

"Move," she groans.

Complying, I lie on the inner part of the couch so Tris is on the edge and I am between both the cushions and Tris. I wrap my arms around her waist, and she wraps her arms around mine that encase her.

"You, Tobias," she slurs, "are the best human being alive. My favorite person."

This makes me smile. The couch is extremely uncomfortable, but is also the most comfortable thing I've ever laid in. I want to ask to go to bed, but I still want to hold her.

"Tobias," Tris whispers a couple minutes later, "if I get up and go to bed, will you come with me?"

I nod. "I thought that was the plan."

She intertwines our hands and plays with them, staring intently. "But will you still hold me?"

I grin, biting my lip. I've been waiting to hear that for past three years of my life.

"I'll hold you as long as you need me to."

She stands up, still holding my hand. Tris drags me into the room, and we crawl into the bed.

"But, darling, I'll always need you to."

A siren goes off in the back of my mind. _Friends don't do this._

I, of course, ignore it.

Our stomachs are pressed together, our arms are wrapped around one another, our legs are a tangled mess, and her face is nuzzled in my neck. I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of holding her. I could not ask for anything more.

Well, there's one thing. One thing I could wish for: I wish I could remember this feeling.

I feel her head leave my shoulder. I figure she is just moving to lie on the pillow. But slowly, and then all at once, her lips have landed on mine. My eyes burst open, and then I close them again enjoying this what will probably be a once in a lifetime moment. Her tongue asks for entrance, lining my lips, and I allow. Her hand wraps around my back, and I place one on her neck, my thumb on her cheek.

New wish: Remember _this_ moment.

Tris quickly moves to straddle my hips as she hovers above me. She removes her lips from mine for a split second, hesitation across her eyes. She grabs the hem of her shirt, and then rips it off, leaving her in a sports bra. Her hair dangles and she licks her lips. She again rolls so I am hovering above her. I don't move, so she yanks my shirt down to her, making my lips meet hers.

"We—" Tris begins. "—Better—." I kiss her lips again, knowing it'll probably be the last I get for a long while. "—Stop." I pull back once again, inches away still, but she kisses me again. I gladly let her. "Okay," she says, pulling away. "No more."

I nod. "All right." I roll over so I'm no longer facing her, bodies completely separated.

"You said you'd still hold me," she tells me quietly.

I smile, closing my eyes, and my arms find her mostly bare torso. Our legs become a tangled mess once again as she lays her face in my shoulder.

 _But, darling, I'll always need you to_ , I repeat in my head. _But, darling, I'll always need you to._

 _But,_

 _darling,_

 _I'll always need you to._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: We Are Liars

hahaaaa 2 more chapter til u die a lil inside

* * *

When I awaken, there is a buzzing in my in head and a beeping in my ears. I feel my arms wrapped around a small frame. That small frame wiggles from my grasp and turns off the beeping sound. I groan, and then pull her back to me.

The sound of Tris's groaning fills the air, and I flutter my eyes open.

"Four," she says, seeming like a scream.

"Sh!" I say softly. I nuzzle my face into her shoulder, and she exhales. "I'm so hungover," I complain. "Do you remember anything from last night? The last I remember is dancing to Blackbear."

Tris escapes from my grasp, and then gets up with a cold face. "No. Nothing."

"Where's your shirt?" I ask with a chuckle. I sit on the bed, legs hanging down.

She walks toward her closet. "Probably got hot."

"How long until we have to be at the office?" I persist. She's become short with me. There's something she's hiding, and it's giving me a sinking feeling.

"45."

"You'll stop at home with me to change, right?"

"Yes," she answers. Then she struts into the bathroom without another word.

I nod. "Alrighty then," I mumble. I get up to go and sit in the kitchen, and while I'm on my way, I hear a disgruntled noise coming from the bathroom.

"I don't know what I was thinking!" she whispers, louder than she probably knows. "I know. I know! No, I don't think he remembers. What? No. Just…yeah. That. Well, obviously I was under the influence of alcohol, but I still knew what I was doing. It was my choice. No, Christina. Christina. Christina! I'll see you at work."

I quickly tiptoe out to the living room and start to clean up the space. I throw away the beer bottles and take the empty pretzel bag (in which we apparently ate the whole thing) and put it in the trash. I throw on my sweatshirt, which was lying on the floor, and put it on.

"Ready?" Tris asks, unable to look me in the eye.

I nod.

"Um, do you need Advil or something? To, uh, help with your head?" she asks, walking back to the bathroom.

"That'd be great."

I follow her to the bathroom, and she puts her mouth under the faucet and downs the pills. I do the same.

"Thank you," I tell her. She doesn't look at me, doesn't talk to me, and acts like I'm nonexistent.

I jump in the passenger seat of her car, and she starts to engine, and then speeds off in the direction of my apartment. She rolls down the windows, and I squint because of the light blinding me.

She hands me sunglasses without looking at me.

I take them and put them on. They are clearly her glasses, so I look fairly peculiar. They are round, almost Harry Potter-like, but stylish. I pucker my lips, and joke, "How do I look?"

She looks over at me with a straight face, and then she laughs. She tries to contain herself, but it doesn't work, seeing as she is smiling.

"What's up with you?" I ask shortly after. "You're acting distant. I miss my Tris."

She turns left. "Nothing," Tris says, faking a smile. "See? I'm smiling. Nothing's wrong."

I roll my eyes. "You're clearly faking; I'm your best friend and a CIA agent for godsakes. Now tell me what's up."

"Nothing, Tobias. Leave it alone," she demands, annoyed.

"Tris," I say calmly, "I know something happened last night."

She looks over at me with panicked eyes. "What?"

I sigh. "Listen, I don't remember anything. I was pretty drunk. But all I know is that I had the best sleep of my life last night, probably because I was holding you."

"You were drunk. Of course you slept well. It's not like we had sex or anything. We were both drunk and under the influence so can we just forget anything happened?" she snaps. "And besides, we probably just gravitated toward each other last night or something."

"I can't forget something I never remembered, Tris."

"Then I'll put it behind me," she declares. "Problem solved."

 _I was under the influence of alcohol, but I still knew what I was doing. It was my choice_ , I remind myself of her words. She said that it was her choice to do, well, whatever we did. If we didn't have drunken sex then it couldn't have been _that_ bad, right? It had to have been on a smaller scale of what conveys emotion.

"Tris," I plead. "If you would just tell me, I promise I won't ever mention it. All right?"

She doesn't say anything.

"Your shirt didn't come off because it was too hot, did it?" I ask inquisitively.

She again does not speak a word.

When I am about to ask another question, she answers me.

"No. I actually was hot."

I nod. "So… we didn't go all the way, but we went part of the way," I infer.

She shakes her head, staring dead at the road. "Not exactly. We didn't really go _any_ way."

"So we…?"

Tris parks the car on the side of the road in front of my apartment complex.

She puts her forehead on the steering wheel, hands still on the top of it.

"We just… I asked you to hold me through the night because I've… I've been getting nightmares a lot more often for some reason. I don't know what triggered it, but they're more frequent now than ever. So you held me, just like I asked, dusk to dawn. And I don't want to admit that it felt right. I had a nightmare, and when I woke up to feel you holding me, I slept better than I have in a while."

I try to contain a smile. "That's all? Just… holding each other is what happened?"

She nods. "Yeah."

"It's not that big of a deal, is it?" I ask, downplaying it.

Tris shrugs. "I guess not."

"So why worry?" I ask, getting out of the car. I walk up to my apartment, noticing that Tris hasn't followed. I don't bother looking back.

She lied. Something more happened, and I'm fairly certain of it too. I don't think anything sexual happened, but I do think we kissed. Whether it was intense or not is the question. Her shirt _did_ come off, which probably leads to the former rather than the latter.

Part of me wonders if it was the alcohol that made her want arms or if it was truly Tris. I wonder if she'll ever want me to hold her again.

 _But, darling, I'll always need you to._

Where did that come from? I suddenly remember something that was probably said last night—entirely out of the blue.

Did Tris say that? _I'll always need you to_ what? What will she need me to always do?

 _I'll hold you as long as you need me to._

That's what I'd said. I remember distinctly that I'd told her I'd do that. I remember repeating over and over again, _I'll always need you to._ She'll always need me to hold her.

 _I was under the influence of alcohol, but I still knew what I was doing. It was my choice._

So many memories float back to me as I change into my typical work clothes. Dancing with her, drinking with her, holding her. But not kissing her. The best part (I presume) of the night, I can't even remember.

Why bother bringing it up though? She'll only lie again. She'll refute it. And even if we did admit it happened, we'd just agree to put it behind us. That it was drunken kissing. That the influence was too great. That it meant nothing.

I walk out the door, putting on my happy face that I know even Tris won't be able to see through.

She doesn't start the car when I get in. "We're good, right?"

I nod, smiling. "Yeah. We were drunk. Obviously the whole thing meant nothing."

There's pain in her eyes, but she attempts to conceal it with a chuckle. "Yeah. Meant… nothing. We were just holding each other. Surface level stuff. Nothing."

Tris starts the car as my brain whirls. There was obvious hurt in her eyes, but from me saying it meant nothing? Could it mean something to her? She said that it felt right, but even still, we were drunk. Intoxicated.

 _That's a funny word._

I wipe away my distant thoughts and focus. We were drunk and weren't thinking straight.

 _I was under the influence of alcohol, but I still knew what I was doing. It was my choice._

 _It was my choice._

It was her choice. She decided that she finally needed me. She made the choice to kiss me. Could I have initiated it though? Probably not. Even drunk I'm a coward.

The fact is, though, that she knows it wasn't a drunken incident. She is a liar. And I know that I am a liar too, because I know this wasn't a drunken incident too. I'm lying to myself.

We are liars.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The End of the Process

* * *

Tris and I barely talk over the course of the flight. It is entirely awkward and long over the 13-hour ride between the layover and inability to sleep. The plane is uncomfortable and trivial with Tris. Neither of us says much until about 4 PM, and it's not me.

"It can't be like this," Tris finally says with a bit of anger.

"What do you mean?" I ask, a little vexed.

She rolls her eyes, leans her head back, and then turns it toward me. "What if one of us died? I don't want to die being mad at you, and I don't want you to die being mad at me. Of course, I don't want you or myself to die, period, but I certainly don't want it to be terrible words and a terrible situation. In this field, we never know what could happen. We breeze through this job as if it's no big deal, as if we know we'll come out just fine. But one day, one day soon, something is going to happen to one of us. We need to make the very most of every single day, Tobias. Life is too short to even care about anything at all. Anything but each other. You are the most important person in my life."

I blow it off. "Tris, the odds of it are slim. We don't really engage in contact. That's Chris and Uriah's jobs. We rarely have to draw our weapons."

She shakes her head. "That's ridiculous, Tobias. This plane could go down right here, right now. And what would we be doing? Arguing. Arguing is what we'd be doing."

I know she's right, but what good could come out of me admitting that? "Tris," I laugh, "you're such a pessimist."

"No," she snaps, "I'm a realist."

I chuckle. "Realist," I deadpan. "So you're, like, one of those people that doesn't see the glass half empty or half full. You think it's just two times too big."

She shrugs. "If you want to put it like that."

I snicker. "Well then consider me an optimist. This plane won't go down and neither of us will get shot. Everything will be fine, Tris."

She shakes her head. "You can't live like that."

Rolling my eyes, I tell her, "And you can't tell me how to live my life."

She groans in frustration. "God, you're such an asshole sometimes. I try to fix whatever happened between us last night and you completely shove it back in my face as if it's not even a possibility."

"So I'm an asshole now just because I disagree with you? And what does that even mean? It's obviously _not a possibility._ "

She sarcastically laughs and ignores the latter part of what I'd asked. "No, Tobias, you're an asshole because you don't give a fuck. Do you really want me to die mad at you?"

I flinch. "I don't want you to die. I don't want you to be mad at me. But you're not going to—"

She interrupts, "Don't you _dare_ say that I'm not going to die. I could at any given moment. You know it, too. You're just too stubborn of an ass to admit it, aren't you?"

I don't say anything, indicating she's correct.

"Silence says a lot more than you think," she whispers. "More than actions."

I stay silent yet again. Then I retort, "And actions speak louder than words."

"But so does silence."

"Surely silence can sometimes be the most eloquent reply," I shoot back.

She doesn't reply as a reply. She only stares out the window, unwilling to make eye contact.

"Well played," I tell her, smirking. "Very well played."

She shrugs.

Something is eating her up inside. Her expression is hardly readable, but her body language speaks more than silence… more than anything, really. Her muscles are taut and her hands are glistening due to clamminess. She tries to wipe them on her thighs, but she only repeats the cycle. She continuously taps her converse shoe against the crappy airplane carpet. This entire argument she's discreetly been avoiding eye contact, but showing little discomfort. The only giveaway up until now was the eye contact. Now she's showing every telltale sign of awkwardness and discomfort. She's fidgeting with her fingers, picking at the cracked nail polish that I hadn't even noticed up until now.

"Enough," I declare. "What's up with you?"

Tris quickly snaps her head in my direction, away from the window. "What? Nothing," she chuckles. She tries to relax, then leans back into her airplane seat that one simply cannot get comfortable in. She reverses everything she's doing—she calms her fingers, opens her palms, and quits tapping her foot. Now she looks _too_ comfortable.

She groans in frustration at herself.

I almost chuckle at her. "Would you like to tell me what secret you're keeping from me, Beatrice Elizabeth?"

Beatrice Elizabeth tenses up again. "You—"

"Never call you that, I know," I finish for her.

She groans yet again. "Fuck you."

"Ha!" I laugh. "You're pretty sexy when you get angry."

She glares, smirking. "Hey, Sporto, I bet you wanna slip me the _hot beef injection_ , don't ya?" Tris quotes.

I laugh again. "Yeah, right. You'd enjoy it. You'll do anything sexual and you don't need a million dollars to do it, either."

"Are we really going to play who-can-quote-more-quotes-from-The-Breakfast-Club game?" she asks. "Because if so, I'm ignoring you."

"Sweets," I begin, "you couldn't ignore me even if you tried."

She groans, "Eat my shorts."

"'Is there anything wrong with me tryin' to put together some kind of relationship between us?"

She casually laughs. "You messed up. That's from _Sixteen Candles._ "

My eyes go wide. "No."

"Yes," she proudly cheers.

I put my face in my palm. "Don't look at me. I'm a disgrace."

Tris only shares a light giggle, then turns back to the window. She seems a bit more relaxed now, but still a bit tense as she leans away from me and toward the window.

"Tris," I say lightly, "whatever it is, you can tell me. Maybe not now, maybe not later, but whenever you're ready, I guess. I don't know. I just… I want you to be able to trust me. And like you said, we could die any second, and if so, I would never find out what you wanted to tell me."

Neither of us says anything after that. There was no need to.

* * *

"Let's review," Tris begins. "Local American who moved to Ponta Delgada runs a nightclub, sells drugs throughout the Azores, and Portuguese government thinks there something in the drugs?"

We stay in a small hotel in the center of Ponta Delgada on the island of São Miguel. There are a total of nine islands that make up the Azores. They are owned by Portugal, hundreds of miles away from the actual country, lying in the middle of the ocean. Ponta Delgada is easily the largest city in all of the Azores.

I shrug as a response, and then speak. "What could be in the drugs besides drugs?" I ask with a chuckle.

"But people are dying. And autopsies don't suggest overdose as cause of death."

I furrow my brows. "Doesn't this seem like something the FBI—someone who's, I don't know, not us—would handle this?"

Tris nods. "Usually. But the Azores requested special… a special team. Someone who they knew could get the job done. You know?"

I nod. "So do we just go to the nightclub and get close to Nicholas Anderson?"

She grimaces. "Yes. So, unfortunately, the Bureau probably packed me something objectifying to my body."

"As much as I hate when you have to do that, it does help with the case because my gender can tend to be shallow pigs who look at women like snacks."

She slowly nods. "But why isn't there ever a female drug lord?"

"Well," I begin, "contrary to popular belief, woman aren't as insane as men can be."

She chuckles. "I don't know. I feel like you and I are equally crazy. We would kick some serious ass if the other got hurt. At least, I hope you would."

"In a heartbeat," I say without hesitation.

She only smiles. "All right. Let's see what the FBI packed for me to go clubbing in." Tris unzips the suitcase, then pulls out something entirely different that what we expected.

What we see are a pair of dark skinny jeans, a jet-black long-sleeved shirt that is anything but revealing with it's high neck, bracelets, and black stilettos. A note lies on top of the bag that contained the clothing. She begins to read it aloud.

"Tris, hope this outfit isn't too revealing. I picked it out after overhearing Christina talking about how you hated most of the outfits that associates have been handpicking to what they see is best fit for the mission. I consulted Christina with this one. Hope it's fine. Max."

She chuckles, and then takes the clothes into the bathroom to change. I open my suitcase and see something I am not surprised with: A black, short-sleeved collared shirt, semi-dressy khaki pants, and no-lace black Vans.

Tris comes out looking all beautiful and all conserved. She wears the shirt like it's her job and the heels like she wears them for a living. Her hair remains down, wavy as ever, and an awkward smile planted on her face. "One hell of a clubbing outfit. I would go on a date in this outfit. Like, with my grandmother. If I had one," she jokes.

I smile. "You look beautiful either way."

She shakes her head. "These heels are going to kill me all night."

I shrug. "Wear your Vans you brought. They match. You look good in them."

She purses her lips. "I don't know. I feel like if I have to persuade Anderson to come with me then I have to play every move I've got, and these heels are a play."

"It's totally up to you."

She nods. "Well, you better get changed. We should head out in about ten."

I take my clothes to the bathroom and do so.

When I come out, I stand next to her in the mirror, and we look like the typical American duo. "So Max told you that you are just supposed to be my friend, right?"

I look at her wearing obvious confusion on my face. "Why does he never tell me anything anymore?"

She chuckles. "He said it's going to be easier for me to… let's say… persuade him."

As I roll my eyes, I tell her, "Max wants to make sure we've got a clean shot to Anderson, and he doesn't want me threatening that because I tend to be a little… scary, at times. You know, scary-looking-boyfriend skills."

Tris confirms with a laugh and a nod. "I just don't get why it has to be now, this particular mission. Like, in Colombia, he didn't have a problem with me dressing pretty revealingly _and_ with you as my husband."

I scoff. "You looked amazing that night, and it wasn't even that revealing. All that matters is that you feel comfortable in whatever you're wearing."

She shrugs, and then she puts her hair up in a loose bun. "I was comfortable in that dress, and I'm comfortable in this, but will this really get the job done? God, don't get me wrong, I hate having to show skin to get things done, but sometimes I have to in order to complete the mission, you know? Some guys are just too shallow—"

I stop her. "Tris. You don't have to explain yourself. It'll be fine. If he doesn't notice you then he's a crazy person, first of all, and second, I've got some ideas. Don't fret. Now let's go."

She groans as I grab her hand and drag her out of the hotel room. She giggles, then continues hold my hand. Or apparently, I keep holding on, according to her next declaration.

"We're not together."

I lean in then smirk. "For this mission or just… you know, in general," I tease with a wink.

She shakes her head, and still doesn't release my hand.

There is no process of losing it anymore. The process of losing it has been completed. The completion of losing it has changed me as a man. As a human being. I have lost it. It didn't happen in this exact moment, holding her hand, swinging them back and forth again. It happened over the course time, over these years I've spent with her. It was only a matter of time. I finally lost it, and that is undeniable.

I have completely, entirely, and utterly fallen in love with Beatrice Elizabeth Prior.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Life is Short

"Tris, c'mon. Tris, look at me. Eyes on me. It's okay. Everything is going to be fine. I promise. No, don't shut your eyes! Tris, keep 'em open!" I cry. "Beatrice, you cannot give up on me. Be brave."

My bloody hand squeezes hers as we run down the hallway. The gurney rattles, shaking her body. She groans, barely able to even do that. All of her energy is used grasping my hand and keeping her eyes open.

"One entry wound, patient unstable. Prep IVs and room. We need to get her into surgery _now._ Let the OR know I've got a GSW coming in," the doctor commands toward a nurse.

The doctor shines a light in her eyes, and she flutters her lids.

"Tobias," she faintly whispers.

"Yes, Tris, I'm right here. Everything—"

"Sir, you can't come past this point."

The doctors rip her gurney and hand away from my grasp, and I almost cry out. "Não, você não entende! eu preciso—" I tell her in my best Portuguese. _No, you don't understand! I need…_

"We will let you know as soon as possible what is going on. For now, you need to stay here, sir. Thank you," she says with a thick accent, and then rushes to the operating room.

I squeeze my eyes shut, tight as possible, just standing still.

 _How could I let this happen to her?_

I stand there, simply blank when her gurney is out of sight. Somehow, I keep it together as I walk to the bathroom. My hands are bloody and my hair is a mess along with my mind. I stare in the mirror as the pink water circles its way down the drain. I can't concentrate on anything but her.

Only Tris.

 _"_ _Tobias!" she laughs. "What on Earth?"_

 _"_ _Get in the stall," I command, chuckling. She does, and so I say, "Give me your shirt."_

 _Silence. Then she clears her throat with a shy laugh. "I'm sorry?"_

 _I roll my eyes. "Trust me."_

 _She hands me her shirt over the stall. I grab my knife, then cut the sleeves on the shirt, making it into a tank top. "Jeans," I request._

 _Tris groans and takes them off as I throw the shirt back over._

 _She squeals. "Tobias! I'm going to look like a hobo!"_

 _I shake my head and keep cutting the jeans into shorts, trying my best to keep them even._

 _I throw them back over when I'm finished._

 _"_ _Oh, you did not," she begins. "You… I can't believe you!"_

 _I chuckle, and then she comes out and looks in the mirror. "I look—" she begins to complain. "Not bad," Tris finished with a laugh._

 _"_ _That's not all I've got in store. Just one more thing." I grab her shoulders and face her toward the mirror as I stand behind her. Her hair is up in a cute, messy bun, so, naturally, I take it down. When down, her golden locks are much curlier due to the fact that it was up. It looks messy and sexy. It can't get much better than that. Since it's in her face and hot on the dance floor I tie it up into my best half-bun._

 _She shrugs. "Not bad."_

 _I frown and groan a noise of complaint. "Let's go objectify your body."_

 _She shrugs again. "It's fine. I'll do whatever I have to in order to complete the mission." Then, even worse, she adds, "I'm used to it."_

 _I shake my head. "You shouldn't have to be."_

 _Tris tries to give a smile as she grabs my hand. "Let's go par-tay, bay-bay." She drags me out onto the dance floor, and people clear the way._

 _After that, it's not long before the first shot rings through the club._

"Love's what I got, don't start a riot, you feel it when the dance gets hot… cause lovin' is what I—"

I groan. "Tobias Eaton," I answer, pressing the green button on my phone.

"Eaton, I have a board meeting in 30 minutes and I do not have a report from you yet. I better be getting it right now. I don't care if you have to give it to me over the phone—"

"Max," I interrupt. "Tris get shot."

All I hear is crackling on the line.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know, Max, I was little busy holding her hand through the hallways all the way to the operating room and washing my bloody hands off when I was told I had to sit in the goddamn lobby."

He again does not say anything.

"She's in surgery right now, and I'm not going anywhere. I don't even know if she'll be making it out alive. So if you think I'm leaving and coming back to the states, that's bullshit."

"Tobias—"

"Sorry. That's bullshit, _sir_ ," I retort sarcastically.

Max breathes out. "Okay, Eaton. You can stay. But you need to give me updates as soon as you know anything. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Alright. I'm going to make a department-wide announcement letting everyone know what's going on."

I nod. "Okay. Just… tell them not to call me. Please. I can't deal with that while my best friend's life hangs in the balance. The only people I'm okay with hearing from are Christina, Uriah, and Zeke. Pull them aside and let them know everything before the announcement."

Max tells me solemnly, "Of course. I'll talk to you later."

"Max?" I ask quietly. "What if she's not okay?"

He breathes out in distress. "She will be."

I shake my head. "How do you know?"

"Because I have hope. That's all I need."

 _"_ _Nobody moves!" Anderson yells. "Nobody leaves. Not until someone steps up and tells me which one of you is CIA."_

 _Tris and I look at each other as we crouch on the ground. "How does he know?" I mouth._

 _She looks around calmly. "I don't know."_

 _"_ _Is it you two?" Anderson asks, holding a gun up to a couple. They screech and shrill hysterical screams._

 _"_ _No!" they yell, crying. "We're just visiting Ponta Delgada."_

 _Anderson presses the trigger, and the bullet flies into the ceiling. Next, he nudges the barrel of the gun into their heads and leaves them alone, moving onto the next person to terrorize._

 _"_ _We have to do something," Tris whispers to me. "We can't just sit here."_

 _"_ _What was that?" Anderson asks, turning to Tris. "You got somethin' to say, Blondie?"_

 _She looks at me and then at Anderson, and says to him, "Yeah. I do," she mumbles to herself._

No, Tris, don't do it _, I think to myself_. Don't. Don't say anything.

 _She shakes her head and stands. "We're all just visiting. No CIA."_

 _"_ _Oh, really? So all of you are just_ fuckin' _visiting? Who the fuck is CIA?_ "

 _And a shot goes off._

 _"_ _Tris!" I scream. She falls to the ground, clutching her torso. Blood runs down the sides of her body, and it seeps through her fingertips. "No, no, no," I repeat._

 _"_ _Tobias," she says softly. "I…"_

 _"_ _It's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine," I tell her. I replace her hand with mine; pressing against her wound to the stop the bleeding._

 _"_ _Tobias," she groans weakly. "If I die—"_

 _"_ _No," I interrupt, "you will not die."_

 _She takes a deep breath. "If I die tonight," she whispers, coughing, "know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me."_

 _I nod. "Alright. Good to know. But you're not going to die."_

 _She closes her eyes._

 _"_ _No," I tell her. "Don't close your eyes. Tris." She opens them. "I love you." And she closes them._

 _The screams and shouts around me fade, and the minutes feel like hours. I faintly hear sirens in distance, and minutes after that, I hear more gunshots. I look up, and there they are. The policemen. I think they shot… the guy—the man who shot my Tris._

 _I can't think._

 _I can't think._

 _Why can't I think?_

Coffee. I need coffee.

People give me strange looks as I walk to the elevator. I glance at my reflection in the shiny elevator walls, and it's not pretty. My hair is flying every direction possible and my pants have bloodstains on them. My eyes are baggy due to lack of sleep on the plane and the fact that it's two in the morning here in the Azores Islands.

The _ding!_ of the elevator reminds me to step off. I look up, and a sign pointing to the left tells me that the vending machines are that way. I saunter up to the machine that serves less-than-average coffee. I put in two dollars from my wallet, praying it accepts American dollars instead of euros. My prayers have been answered, so I press the button. I slide the cup over and put in my two creams and one sugar packet, even though I typically like it black.

 _Tris likes three creams and three sugars._

I shake my head and walk back to the elevator. When I arrive back in the waiting room, it's empty, so I pace uncontrollably for hours on end. Three coffees and two crying sessions later, there's still no news. By six in the morning, I'm getting anxious.

"Love is what I got, don't start a riot, you feel it when the dance gets hot. Cause lovin' is what I got."

"This is Eaton," I answer.

"Hey," Zeke responds solemnly. "How is she?"

I shake my head, tears in my eyes. I place myself in a chair, realizing how tired I am. "She's… Um," I begin, but give up on trying to talk. I wipe the tear from my cheek. "She's in surgery."

Zeke stays silent, and then I hear Uriah's voice. "Hasn't it been, like, four hours?"

I nod, even though they can't see me. "Yeah. Typical surgeries… they take, um, about 5-7 hours… So it could be a while depending on where the bullet… The doctors never said if she'd be okay." Multiple tears stream down my face. "I don't know what I'm going to do if she's not okay," I tell them, and they probably know I'm crying at this point. "She has to be okay," I say hysterically.

I hear a high-pitched voice say something next. "She will be."

"Christina?" I ask.

"Yeah, Four."

I don't waste any time getting to the point with Christina. "I love her. Do you know that? I am completely and entirely in love with her, and the fact that she could be ripped away from me at any moment is terrifying. The only person I can say I love could die, and there isn't a damn thing I can do. I should've…" I whisper. "Goddammit, I should've told her I loved her before it was too late… And now she might never know. The second we get back to DC, I have to tell her."

Christina responds right away. "Do it."

"You mean…"

She nods, and then laughs with a cry. "You need to do it. It doesn't even have to be anything fancy. Just… Promise me you'll do it."

I nod. "I promise."

"We better be the first to know about what happens," Zeke says. "Okay?"

"Okay. I'll talk to you guys later."

"Oh, and, Four?" Christina adds. "Take care of yourself."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Something's Not Right

 _"_ _If I die tonight, know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me."_

 _"_ _No," I tell her. "Don't close your eyes. Tris." She opens them. "I love you." And she closes them._

"Mr. Eaton? Mr. Eaton," I hear faintly.

I open my eyes and inhale a sharp breath. "What? Is everything okay? Is Tris alright?" I rub my eyes and reach for my cold coffee.

"Well… Sir, it's tough to say at this point. She's recovering from her surgery right now, which went smoothly, but it's hard to tell if she will wake up from her comatose state," the doctor says in his best English.

I stand, meeting the doctor's eyes. "You mean… if?"

He frowns. "Yes. But I see things like this somewhat often. I have never had a patient out for more than a month. My hopes are incredibly high that she will awaken within the next couple hours. It'll either be today or two weeks. There's usually no in between."

I nod. "Okay. Odd request I have… But may I sit in her room with her? I just… I need to see her."

The doctor gives an unsure look. "Are you direct family?"

I shut my eyes. "Honestly, Doctor? No. But we don't have families. We're all we've got."

He nods. "I understand. You may stay in there as long as you need. I'll take you there."

"Thank you."

I pull an uncomfortable chair up next to her bed when I arrive. Tris's face is peaceful, as if she hasn't gotten shot hours ago. I grab her lifeless hand and just hold it.

I dial up Zeke's number.

"Four. What's happened?"

"Get Uri and Chris," I tell them.

"They're already here. We haven't left each other's sides."

I take a deep breath. "She just got out of surgery. Everything went smoothly. It's just a matter of when she wakes up." They don't say anything. "If," I correct. "If she wakes up."

"You mean…?" Zeke asks.

"Yeah. The doctor it's likely not that severe… but there's still a chance. Hopefully it'll just be just a matter of hours," I say, sad smile on my face.

They exhale.

"Thank God," Christina says, whom I presume is crying.

"I'll give you guys updates if…" I begin.

Suddenly, I hear Tris's heart rate start to go up. The machines blare an inconsistent beeping, and her body flinches, as if she were a fish out of water.

"Doctor!" I yell. "Someone!" I run out into the hallway and two doctors come sprinting into the room. My phone bellows loud noises, but I can hardly hear them shrilling.

"Nurse," one of them demands, "get him out of here."

"No," I say. "No."

"Get the paddles," one of them demands. "Now!"

"Sir, you need to step outside. Sir," one of the nurses urges. I quickly grab my phone and step outside.

"Guys," I cry to the phone, "she just… oh my god."

"What?" Uriah roars. "What happened?"

"Oh my god," I whimper. Tears line my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. "Her heart rate spiked and she had, a—a seizure, almost. Oh my god. They got the Defibrillator paddles—and—and… She's going to…"

"Everything will—"

I hang up. I wait outside the door where Tris's life hangs in the balance. There's no window, so I have no way of knowing what's going on.

"Oh my god," I say to myself. I press my palm to my forehead and pace back and forth down the hall. "What did I do?" I mumble. "Maybe if I hadn't touched her… Maybe if I didn't even go in."

"No!" a female voice yells from inside. "I won't calm down!"

Tris. That's her. That's got to be her.

Someone opens the door. "Sir," a doctor says calmly. A nurse and two doctors walk out, and shut the door. I try to peak in, but see nothing. "We've performed CPR, due to respiratory incline and failure, and it seems Beatrice responded. She is awake and in… a fit of panic—hysteria, if you will—at the moment, and will not calm until she speaks to a man named Tobias. I presume that is you?"

I don't even wait for his approval. I rush past him into the room to see Tris sitting up, cringing.

"Tobias," she says weakly. She falls back onto the inclined bed and gives a barely there smile.

"Thank God," I mutter. I lean down and press my hands against her cheeks, and then kiss her forehead. She wraps her arms around my torso, hugging me.

"You're okay," I cry. "You're… alive. You… I don't know what I would've done."

She sighs as she plays with my fingers. "When can we go home?" she asks quietly.

"As soon as you're cleared," I tell her, one last tear finding its way down my cheek.

She doesn't say anything. Then, "When's that?"

I shrug. "A day, maybe two."

She nods, small tears welling. "I want to go home."

"I know, honey," I mumble. "I know."

* * *

Two days later, Tris is cleared to leave Ponta Delgada. The local police questioned us later, and we claimed to be vacationers in the wrong place at the wrong time. There've been no hiccups medically, but I know that Tris won't be able to go out into the field for at least a month, which troubles me. She was quiet over the course of the flight, which was also bothersome. Something is eating her up.

When we arrive back home to DC at around 9 PM, we go straight to Langley. Zeke, Uriah, and Christina all run up to us. Christina hugs her first while Uriah and Zeke hugs me.

"How are you?" Chris asks her.

She shrugs. "I'll talk to you later."

Christina eyes her, then nods.

"C'mere, you two," Tris says to both Uriah and Zeke. They squeeze her like any big brothers would. "Ah," she laughs, but cringes. "Easy on the tummy."

"Sorry," the brothers say in unison.

Tris just smiles. "I better go talk to Max." Then, without another word, she saunters to Max's office.

When she's a safe distance away, Uriah asks, "How's she actually doing?"

I shake my head and look at the carpet. "She's quiet. She's never quiet."

The brothers nod, but Christina looks everywhere but us. She nervously taps her foot and chews her nails.

"Christina," I say, glaring. "What aren't you telling us?"

She changes her posture and quits tapping her foot. "What?" she chuckles. "Nothing."

"Chris," Uriah objected. "What's going on?"

She looks around and then drags us into Zeke's office.

"Tris got an offer to transfer to Interpol headquarters in Lyon, France."

My mouth drops, along with Zeke's and Uriah's.

"What?" I ask without even thinking. "Interpol?"

Christina nods. "She made me swear not to tell anyone. Max told her about the opening before you guys left for the Azores."

We don't respond.

"And when you and Tris kind of got into that fight," she continues, "I don't know, it must've made her consider."

I shake my head. "She won't take it."

"Four," Christina says in all seriousness. "She might."

I again shake my head. "No. She can't."

When she doesn't respond, I speak again. "She's my world, she can't just leave," I bellow.

"Tell her how you feel," Uriah blurts. "If she knows then maybe—"

"Honestly," Christina interrupts, "it won't make a difference if you do. If she wants something, she'll do anything to have it, and giving up the love of her life is something she'd do."

I grunt with contempt. "I'm not the love of her life."

Christina crosses her arms. "Really? Then tell me why she'd confess to me that you are."

My eyes bulge. "What?"

"For a CIA agent, you're awfully clueless," she tells me. "Ever since The Farm… Ever since The Farm she's been crazy about you, Four. When you walked into the briefing meeting the very first morning without saying a word, she has been absolutely mad over you."

My heart races and all muscles go taut. I can hardly breathe.

"Act like you don't know anything I just told you," Christina quickly says. "She can't know you know, Four."

I nod, barely able to comprehend.

She loves me.

Tris steps out of Max's office, with an unsure look on her face. We four step out of Zeke's office and play it off as if nothing happened.

Before I know it, Tris is grabbing my shirt and pulling my lips down to hers. Her lips are sweet and soft, just like I had always dreamed they'd be. She places a hand on the back of my neck, and mine wrap around her torso.

Around me, Christina, Zeke, and Uriah are hollering and whistling. I am imagine the entire office can see us through these glass doors in this office, but at the moment that's the very last thing I am worried about.

When Tris unlocks her lips from mine, she leans her forehead upon my own.

"I better get going. I need some sleep," Tris says quietly. She takes a step back and starts talking to our friends. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." She hugs Uriah, Zeke, and Christina as if it'll be her last time.

We walk out together to her car, silently holding hands and grinning.

"Was that too much?" she laughs. "I suppose it was a tad dramatic, huh?"

I laugh and shake my head. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Do you, ah, want to come over tonight?" I ask minutes later.

She smiles. "I'd love to. Just let me run home really fast, okay? I'll be right over."

"Would you mind dropping me off?" I laugh. "I have no mode of transportation."

She chuckles. "Of course."

In a jiffy, we're in her car and she's dropping me off at my house.

"Be back in about a half-hour," she says with a sweet, fake smile. Not a second after she rushes off in the biggest hurry I've ever seen her in.

I stumble into my apartment, and change into pajamas. Without thinking, I collapse on my bed. I'll just take a little nap before Tris gets here. _Just a little nap,_ I think to myself as I pass out.

I awaken to a rapping on the door. Tris, I think. I forgot about Tris coming over. Oh, my mind is a mess.

I smile when I open the door. "Hi."

She laughs and then struts past me. She walks into my bedroom, disappearing behind the turn.

I shut the door and follow. What I see is Tris with a plain t-shirt—one that I soon realize is mine—and no pants. She gets underneath the covers, and I join her. We don't touch—not at first. We simply face each other, lying comfortably on my bed.

"I love—" I begin.

"Don't," she says solemnly. "I already know you love me."

"No," I say, "not like that. I am so in l—"

She smiles, and then shushes my lips with her finger. She moves her fingertips to my cheek. "I know, Tobias. Let's do this tomorrow. Right now, I need you to just hold me. Please. Hold me like you'll never see me again."

I move my body closer to hers, wrapping my arms around her bandaged torso. Our legs tangle into a knot we don't wish to unwind. I slowly plant a soft, sweet kiss on her lips, and she kisses back.

She sighs and nuzzles her face into my shoulder.

 _Something's not right._


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Selfish

When I awaken, the spot next to me is empty. My alarm screeches a blaring sound, so I press the button that turns it off. I feel a smile forming on my face, recalling my memories from last night. I sit there, legs hanging off the bed, grin wide as can be. We're finally going to clarify things today, and I'm not even slightly nervous about it.

I stand up out of bed and stretch, then see the bathroom door is open and the light is off, so she's not in there. I figure she's getting breakfast or something, so I go to the kitchen. I wait to see her searching through the cabinets in her bare feet wearing my shirt, but I only see a dark, empty kitchen. I look around, but then I spot a note on the door. I chuckle, and then walk up to it. She probably went to go and get muffins.

The note stuck on the door looks long, though, which perplexes my tired mind. I rip the note off the door, scratching my head. I lean my back against the door and begin reading.

 _Tobias,_

 _I was going to say goodbye last night. I really was. I had everything planned out. I spent all my time thinking about my plan while lying in that stupid hospital bed, but I froze last night, lying there with you. Everything just felt right, you know? When I woke up at 3 AM this morning in your arms, I didn't want to leave. I could've stayed there forever. Last night was probably the best I've ever felt, despite my wound._

 _I really do love you. So, so much, Tobias. And not in the way I've been telling you the past three years. I am so in love with you on a level that I cannot choose a word to explain. The reason I never told you is because I didn't think you felt the way I did. I don't know. I guess we were both pretty clueless, huh?_

 _Enough of the intro, though._

 _I got a job offer at Interpol's Headquarters. Max told me about it before we left for Ponta Delgada. I've been considering. You know me. I'm the kind of girl that doesn't let a guy—or anyone for that matter—hold me back from my dreams. I'm still deciding if Interpol is my dream, or if this job, this life, with you, is my dream. Or maybe if you're my dream altogether. I don't know if a person_ can _be a dream, but if so, I think you might be._

 _I just need time to figure things out. I can't be in the field for a month, and I refuse to sit at a desk._

 _Don't try to make Max tell you when my flight is today—it left at four in the morning. I will not tell you where I am, although you'll probably figure it out, being the brilliant man I fell in love with. I'll be back in five months, regardless of my choice to stay in the States or move to Lyon. Max authorized me to live in a U.S. sanctioned area in A—in the place I'll be living._

 _Don't try to contact me. I need this time for myself. Please understand. If you don't want me anymore when I come back, I'll get it. My heart may be broken, but I'll get it._

 _I really love you. More than you'll ever know._

 _Love,_

 _Tris._

I slink down to the ground against the door. I pull my knees to my chest, then my chin on top of them. I can't cry. I used all the tears I had two days ago, and now I'm just… sad.

I knew something was up, but I chose to ignore it. God, I should have known. How did I not figure it out? I was so distracted.

My thoughts run askew. The next time I see her will be in five months, and even then, I may never see her again after that. If she chooses to go to France then I'm shit out of luck.

I try to be mad at Tris, but I can't. I completely understand her situation, but I just wish she'd said goodbye. She was right though—I would have tried to convince her to stay. I should have woken up when she left… damn my heavy sleeping.

I get up and drag myself to my bedroom to get ready for work. Miserably, I sulk every step of the way. My eyes travel to the clock, and it reads 7:55. I brush my teeth, and while doing so I realize that I'm late and that the clock reads five 'til eight. I read it, but didn't process it.

"What else could possibly go wrong this morning?" I mumble as I hurriedly walk out the door. When I step outside, I shake my head, unlock the car, and put the key in the ignition. At this point, I don't bother rushing to the office. My tardiness will likely not even be noticed. Even if it were, who would challenge me anyway? I'm scary as it is, but I probably look like an angry military sergeant today. Hell, I probably will for the next five months. And if Tris moves to France? The next… forever.

When I reach Langley, I park in the spot Tris does.

 _Did,_ I remind myself.

Inside the building are multiple little cafés, so I decide to order coffee. At this point, it's the only thing that could possibly wake me into the reality of Tris's disappearance.

"Decaf with two creams and a sugar, please," I order.

 _Tris likes three creams and three sugars._

I remind myself of three days ago in the hospital getting coffee, when I thought, again, of how Tris likes her coffee.

I take the elevator up three stories as I shake my head. As soon as I walk out of the elevator, all eyes are on me. The department certainly doesn't remain inconspicuous with their trail of eyes. Zeke, Chris, and Uriah all come rushing toward me, pulling me into Zeke's office, much like yesterday. This time, though, Christina shuts the blinds surrounding the glass windows people can see into.

"What did you do?" Christina question. "What could've possibly happened last night to make Tris disappear?"

I shake my head. "You don't understand."

"Really? I don't understand? Because Tris left _this_ note"—Christina assertively shoves a note in Tris's handwriting in my face—"taped to the outside of my door, distinctly explaining that she was taking off for five months, disappearing entirely, and that she might go to Interpol," she incredulously comes out with. "The only person who could make her do something like that is _you._ "

"Christina, the absolute last thing I need right now is your critical words trying to find reason as to why Tris left, okay?" I say loudly. Not loud enough to yell, but loud enough to sure as hell get my point across. I concede though, softening my voice. "My best friend—the woman I have completely given my heart to—just decided to get up and leave at three AM to some country or city starting with an A and leave me, telling me she loves me. Telling me that I could be her new dream. Telling me that at three in the morning that she almost couldn't leave my arms because she could just lie there forever. Tell me, in that note Tris wrote, did she profess her love for you?"

She looks down, saying nothing. I could stop here, but I won't. I have no limits today.

"Have you held her through the night? Have you sat by her side while she was in the hospital, life hanging in the balance? Have you, Christina, played Crash Bandicoot and eaten Domino's pizza until four in the morning with her?"

Christina shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… to say that. I know you guys are close in a way that I will never understand. But I need her too, Four, all right?"

"So do we," Uriah interrupts, motioning between himself and his brother.

I nod. "Okay. I get it… But, guys… I held her last night thinking today would finally be the day that everything went right. That today would be the day I could finally be hers and she be mine. I was holding her five hours ago, and now I have no idea where she is. And I just… How… How could I let her slip away from me like this?"

"You also have to understand, Four," Zeke begins, "that this is her decision. You have to respect that. This is clearly what she wanted."

"Zeke," I state. "I am selfish. Alright? I'm selfish. Simple as that. I want Tris. I want to spend time with her. I just… I love her, and I can't stand the thought of never being with her again. Sorry that I'm so selfish."

Christina shakes her head. "You're not selfish. You just want her, and you've wanted her for years. It's okay, Four."

I look down, wanting to cry, but I don't allow myself. My depressingly morbid thoughts are interrupted by yet another depressingly morbid thought. "What's today's date?"

Christina furrows her eyebrows. "July 30th. Why?"

I laugh a wicked laugh.

They look at me with a perplexed visage, not understanding what I'd meant.

I shake my head. "We… We made plans a while ago while we were in Cape Town, to hang out on Christmas this year. We were going to watch classic Christmas movies and just hang out. I don't know. I guess I was just really looking forward to it, and now... well now I'm not. I get to spend it sitting in front of my fireplace sipping hot chocolate all by myself. Watching Christmas classics all by myself."

They, again, say nothing.

I close my eyes, and then rub my face with my hand. "Today's the 30th. Last day of the month. Paperwork day. I better get to it." I then rush out of the office and to my desk. I hide in my little cubicle that I rarely ever sit at. The only thing I have that makes it mine is the picture pinned up of Tris and me at our first mission in Cuba.

My hands reach for the bulletin board pin and I take the picture down, putting it facedown so I only see the white back.

I open my computer and grab a file from the cabinet below me. I work for a couple of minutes, but I'm unable to focus due to my lack of motivation. My eyes travel to the picture lying on my desk. Staring at it, I sigh.

I put the picture back up.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Go Anywhere

"You mean I won't be traveling anywhere for the next five months? Because of her?"

Max nods. "Paperwork only."

"Can't I just get a temp?" I plea.

My boss shakes his head. "You and Tris… You guys have been specially trained and prepared for the missions you handle. It requires a certain mindset and psychological factor—no one can replace Tris."

 _You're tellin' me._

I slink back in my chair. "So I'll just be doing paperwork? Filing shit for actual agents going on actual missions, doing the ones Tris and I should be doing?"

"Eaton, you have to understand—" Max tries to explain, but I soon interrupt him.

"'—That there are hiccups in life and that things sometimes have to change for a short period of time. That this is just what Tris needs in her life right now. That you need to respect her decisions, even if it fucks you over.' Yeah. I know. I've heard it, Grey."

"Agent, I know you've heard it all from an endless amount of people. I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I'm just saying that life is too short to focus on what is not well. It's five months. Get over yourself," he laughs. "I'm not trying to be rude, but somebody needs to give it to you straight, and apparently it won't be any of your friends. Get your head out of your ass. She may be the love of your life, but would she really want you sulking around? Probably not, Eaton. You need to make the most of your life, because if there's one thing I've learned from this field, it's that life is too short to ever be sad. Take these next months and use it on you and your friends. Life is about two things: Love and human connection. To be perfectly candid, fuck everything else."

I grin and don't say anything. I sit there, thinking about everything my boss just said to me. I don't move a muscle, because my smile is frozen. "You're right."

Max Grey leans back in his chair, satisfied and content with his advice. "Take this month off. Go somewhere for the next 20 weeks. Figure yourself out. Go anywhere."

I suddenly look up from the ground. "Just leave?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

"For five months?"

"Yes," Max chuckled.

I grin some more, shaking my head. My legs rise, and I stick my hand out, and he shakes it. "Thank you."

He smirks. "I hope I see you again."

I laugh. "How do you mean?"

"I hope you don't become a freeloading hippie who lives life on the road."

I roll my eyes. "See you in a couple months, Max. Thank you, again."

He nods. "Get out of here."

As I stand in the doorway I feel I am unable to move. I am overwhelmingly grateful for this opportunity that Max has given me. I stand until I know exactly where I'm going.

My eyes are full of joy and eagerness.

Lady Penrhyn, also known as Tongareva, is where I'll be traveling. There is no doubt in my mind that I should be going any place else. Penrhyn is a remote part of the Cook Islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, belonging to New Zealand. I've dreamt for years of this island, living simply and free in a life-sustaining shack on the beachside.

I get inside my car and drive home, and as soon as I step in the door, I scramble for my suitcase. I pack everything I'll need for one month, all clothes. In a duffel, I fill it with 15 of my own books. I bring my laptop too.

I go to walk out the door with my suitcases, but then I start laughing profusely; out of tiredness or genuine laughter, I can't tell. Either way I know I'm going to be going insane if I don't get out of this damn country soon.

I didn't buy a plane ticket. I'm way too ahead of myself here. The plane tickets online show that the next flight there is tomorrow morning at four, and so I groan. The flight itself is 36 hours long, which is pretty much the longest it gets.

Frowning, I go back to my couch and turn on the TV.

I decide to give Zeke a call, even though I know he's at the office.

"What up, my man?" Zeke asks. "Are you in the office?"

"No. Can you, Christina, and Uriah meet me at The Tap tonight? I've got news."

Zeke hesitates; he knows something is up. "Sure, man. 5:30?"

I nod. "Sure. See you then."

My thumb presses the red end button.

So now I wait.

* * *

"That'll be right out for you."

I smile at the waiter, as do the rest of my friends.

"So," Christina begins, "what's the big news?"

My friends and I sit at a small, round, four-person table at a brewery near work. I don't think they're anticipating anything very monumental, even though it is.

"Uh… Well, I'm going away for a while."

Their eyes bulge.

"What do you mean?" Zeke asks.

"I'm leaving for a couple months. I'll be back on the 24th of December."

They don't say anything at first, but Zeke speaks up: "That's five months."

I don't respond.

"Why bother coming back for Christmas?" Zeke asks.

Looking down, I feel a bit ashamed of my answer. "In case Tris comes back for Christmas," I mumble. "I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I… We made plans. And if we don't follow through with them... I'll be disappointed. We've spent every Christmas together even since year one at Camp Peary."

"Where are you going?" Zeke asks. "Wherever Tris is?"

I immediately shake my head.

"Do you know where she is?" Chris asks.

I nod. "I think so, yeah."

"How?" she asks again.

My answer is a shrug, and then, "She's never been to Australia. I think she's there."

"And you're going where?" Zeke questions.

"Penrhyn. The most remote Cook Island in the middle of the Pacific. I've dreamt about it for too long."

"The atoll?" Christina infers. "Tongareva?"

"What does that even mean?" Zeke asks, frustrated.

I solemnly smile. "An atoll is a ring-shaped coral reef or island. So basically there's water in the middle, it's literally, like, a circle of sand. Tongareva means 'south of the empty space.' It's another name for Penrhyn, according to the islanders."

They keep silent.

"I need a break. I'm sorry. I want to take this time to write. Writing… I haven't done it for years. Not since Peary."

"Poetry, right?" Christina asks.

Glaring, I question her. "And novels. How'd you know that?"

She casually shrugs. "It was something Tris admired—" She pauses, then hurriedly answers her buzzing phone. "Hello?"

"Oh my God, Tris," she laughs. "It's you."

I look up from staring at the table and give Christina a look with wide eyes. She sets the phone on the table and I hear Tris's voice.

"Yeah," Tris says. "Um, I wasn't planning on contacting anybody this whole time, but I don't want to leave you without any knowledge. I just want you to know I'm safe in Australia."

"I'm glad," Christina answers.

"Are you alone?" she asks.

Zeke and Uriah nod, telling Christina to say yes. She almost does, but I interrupt.

"Tris," I say quickly. "It's—" I don't finish. She knows.

She doesn't answer for a solid ten seconds.

"Tobias," she says softly.

"I miss y—" I begin, but she cuts me off.

"Don't try to contact me. There's no point—this is a payphone." And then the line ends, and I'm left with a beeping.

 _"_ _Your provider, Verizon Wireless, charges ten cents per minute. Your total for this international call is 20 American cents."_

Christina presses the red button to finally end the call and beeping. I sit there, hands gently holding each other, and put my head down on the table.

"I'm so mentally exhausted," I mutter through my hands. "I just… I'm going to go home and sleep."

They all look at me with droopy eyes, full of pity.

"Why are you guys doing this to yourselves?" Uriah quickly asks before I move. I don't say anything, because I honestly don't know the answer. "There's no reason you guys shouldn't be together. You guys love each other. Plain and simple. There's nothing else to it. Why overthink it? It's not like there's a work rule or anything. You guys love each other, and that's all that matters. People say that you shouldn't let someone become your happiness, but I think you should. So what if you get hurt? The moments will bring joy. Live in the moment. In no way is love overrated, Tobias. Loving each other and still refusing to be together… Is there _anything more stupid_?"

All of us are somewhat surprised at Uriah's rant on love. None of us really knew he'd felt that way.

"There is too a rule, Uriah," I mutter.

"I'd beg to differ, because Marlene and I kiss all the time—okay, not all the time, but you know what I mean—at the office. Zeke and Shauna do too. Even Will and Chris. So don't try to tell me—"

"Uriah," I interrupt, "you guys can date because you aren't within the same department. Tris and I are. We're _partners_ , and that's extremely off limits, even more so than departmental relationships."

"I've never once been told that," Uriah says. "What about you guys?" he asks Zeke and Chris.

They nod, and Christina answers.

"Yeah. When we were at training at The Farm it was something we went over in the beginning."

Uriah furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"You're two years behind us," Zeke says to his brother. He turns to me. "What if they changed it between the time we started work and he started training?"

We all sit in a stunned silence for a moment.

"So you guys mean to tell me…" I say, close to losing my shit from laughter, "that all this time, I could've been in a happy and thriving relationship with the woman I'm in love with?"

Zeke and Christina look at each other with scared expressions, but Uriah looks me dead in the eye and nods.

"That's exactly what we're saying," Uriah announces.

"Let's get real though," Zeke laughs, "you've been a coward this whole time. If you really wanted her you wouldn't let anything get in the way, Tobias."

I try not to take note in the use of my name. I'm too frustrated with the coward part to think about it too much.

"Coward?" I ask incredulously. "Are you kidding? This whole time I was only afraid that she wouldn't feel the same way."

Christina is next. "I mean… Zeke's kind of right. Just hear us out. You literally just said that you were afraid, and fear is a sign of cowardice."

I put my face in my hands. "We're overthinking this, guys. I need to stop. I'll wreck myself if we keep doing this."

Christina shakes her head. "You can't—"

I cut her off. "—run away from my problems. I know, Chris. Do you know how long I've been facing my problems though? Every time I saw her I thought about how things could turn out." I pause. "I'm exhausted. My brain is tired along with my heart. I'm just… Christ, I'm going home."

I stand up and put on my jacket before they can argue.

"Thank you guys for being there for me. I appreciate you guys more than you'll ever know."

And with that, I walk out of the restaurant.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Journal, Month One

 **These next five chapters will consist of a journal by Tobias, about 500 words apiece, just to give a little insight on his journey. Updates will come every day for the journals.**

 _The feeling of missing somebody. This feeling is one that is usually indescribable, but also the most describable feeling in the world. The reason it is indescribable is because some people, more than others, experience this at a much higher rate, the longing unbearable. The describable part is an issue, mostly because of the fact that I cannot describe the describable, and I can describe the indescribable. The describable side is not something I am fond of; I prefer to take challenges and make something of them. I hate feeling in general, because these feelings are not happy ones. These unhappy feelings are the root cause of my longing. These feelings—I hate them because they're always on my mind. And because they're always on my mind, I think of her. Admitting this is hard, but I've given this woman my heart, and at this point, I'm ashamed. I have been entirely reckless. How can I just give someone a piece of me and trust her not to do anything with it? I've been so careful over these past years—careful since Peary. She makes me feel the most myself that I've ever been, and that's another place I went wrong. I'm shaking hands with the dark parts of my thoughts; they consume my very fibers of my being, my thoughts. Part of me begins to wonder if maybe she isn't actually part of me. I think I don't want her to be a part of me. I think I want her to be with me, beside me as if she was fire and I was fire and together we'd light that whole city. I don't want to be where I am a spark and she is a spark, and so together, we would be a fire. Fuck sparks. We can light up all of D.C. with what we have for each other. Here in Tongareva, I feel at peace with the world. I feel I am one with the world, my toes in the sand and breeze in my hair. But of course with my war-like mine I simply must think of a way to destroy peace._

 _One day. One day everything will be great. You'll wake up next to the love of your life. Your dog will bombard your moments with Tris, but you'll know that you both secretly love it. You'll wake up and make pancakes while she starts the coffee. One day, Tobias, you'll wake up happy, without a single worry in the world._

 _Love will save the day._

 _What a silly thought to think._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Journal, Month Two

 _Tongareva is absolutely everything I dreamed it would be. The atoll itself is stunning, and the people there are very kind as well. I volunteer to teach English at the local school just to pass the time. These past three weeks have been amazing. This is the happiest I have been in a long, long time. I am glad to say that I am able to be happy without Tris. I was so reliant on her for my happiness that I could not find my own self-made source of it. That is the main idea: Be able to burn a city with your own sparks first before you ignite flames to power a place like New York City. I do not see how I could've been so foolish those weeks ago. I believe that it is okay to put your heart and soul into a person and let them become your happiness—only as long as you still keep in touch with your own happiness._

 _I remember something Max told me before I left that I haven't quite gotten out of my mind. He told me, "I hope you don't become a freeloading hippie who lives life on the road." When he told me that I never would've imagined it actually happening. Now it's something I'm actually considering… Buying a Volkswagen van when I get back to D.C., quit my job, and go around the country for a little while—maybe even the world. Tris did that when she was teenager, and I never quite got that opportunity as a kid. I haven't figured out what I'd do for money though. Save up beforehand? I don't see any other option. The main reason for quitting my job, though, would be the simple fact that I have realized that life is too short to put your heart and soul into a job. I want to get married. Have children. I want those children to have a good home where at least one of their parents is around most of the time._

 _I'm getting pretty ahead of myself though, aren't I? Who says she even wants to be with me? And even if she did, would she want get married? Have kids? If she didn't want kids, I don't think it would be too big of a deal. Sacrifices come with love._

 _Being with these Tongarevan kids has made me love children. I've interacted with so many and have even improved my people. I have just become a very kind and understanding person. Before I came to Tongareva, I believed that Tris was the only thing that could possibly make me kind. I thought that was just who I was. Now that I have discovered who I really am, I feel… well, I feel like I am who I'm meant to be. These kids have really brought out that feeling. If I do quit my job, I would then pursue a career in teaching or something to that effect. Maybe I could just stay here and have the school hire me. There are too many ifs and maybes though. I know I don't need to have a game plan, but I have some ideas._


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Journal, Month Three

 _Today, I almost considered cancelling my flight for DC in December. I am too in love with this atoll and the people living on it, and I feel as if I could stay here for at least another seven months to make it a whole year. Today, I taught, like usual, but the thing that's different is that I realized just how much I love them. These kids… They mean the world to me. They look up to me; they tell me they want to learn English and study and live in the States, just like their "Tātā." Tātā means writer in the Tongarevan language, and the fact that they call me that warms my heart. My first week here, I started a novel; I hadn't written about it before because, well, who writes about writing? I needed to take my mind off of it, because it was practically all I thought about._

 _Regarding the flight, I was one click away from cancelling it, even though having paid for it prior. On the same day, I was one click away from buying a ticket to Australia. Melbourne, to be exact. I figured out quite recently that that is where Tris is. No one told me. In fact, I haven't spoken to anyone in the United States since I walked out of that bar containing three of my best friends. The reason I know she is in Melbourne is because today I suddenly remembered our training at The Farm. A week after her gigantic world road trip, we had training, and so that was practically all she and Christina talked about. Anyhow, Tris was complaining to us about how she's never been to Australia, and how Melbourne was the first place she'd go to when she did travel to the continent. I thought she'd settle in a small village like I, but I realized that Tris is and always will be a city girl at heart. She could live anywhere, but the city is where she is at her best. I never bought the ticket though. I was so, so very tempted, but I know that Tris needs her space just as much as I do. No matter how much I may want to hold her right now and kiss her and tell her how much I love her, I know that time is what it takes. I know what I must do, because the results of this will be astronomical._


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Journal, Month Four

 _I accidentally lied. I bought the ticket for Melbourne last week. The problem, though, is that the flight left yesterday. I could not bring myself to board, because once I saw Lily, Adrian, Loana, and all the other students who adore me, I simply could not. I still have two months with these kids—all of the Tongarevan people—and I'm not about to waste it. I plan on coming back and visiting in the future throughout the years, but I don't think I would or could live here permanently. I love this atoll, but it so far away from all of the things I didn't even realized I loved. For example, bookshops; the ones that are small as can be, where the shelves are so close together that I feel claustrophobic. A good claustrophobic. The bookstores that have the old smell of books, ranging from the 1920s dirt to the 1970s pot smoke soaked into the pages. I miss the cars, and I miss driving. Driving is one of the only things that can take my mind off of my problem. I miss driving with the windows down in the dead of summer and screaming songs at the top of my lungs with Tris in the passenger seat singing just as loud as I. I miss the 1 AM text messages from my boss telling Tris and me that we had to catch a flight to God knows where in an hour. I took all of these things for granted and did not even realize it. I have no way of communication with the outside world; there are no televisions, no cellphone towers, and no electricity. Period. There is one payphone on the entire island, and I have yet to use it. No one really uses it, so I'd be surprised if it even worked. I've, of course, contemplated using it a multitude of time to call Tris, but, being the coward I am, I never do._

 _Maybe I haven't changed so much._


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Journal, Month Five

 _I leave in one week. I have never been so hesitant yet so excited at once. I cannot even concentrate on writing. In a couple of minutes, I am about to bike to Omoka Village for my daily ride; I will likely fish in between Omoka and Te Tautua—the two primary villages. My diet has mostly consisted of D_ _olphin fish, Yellowfin and Skipjack tuna, Sailfish and Marlin. My favorite, personally, is Sailfish. However, that's beside the point. Is there a point? I'm too excited to concentrate, like aforementioned. Alright. Okay. Here I go. This journal's short journey has come to an end, much like mine. Why it ended on a tangent on fish? No clue, but I think it has to do with my lack of concentration..._

 _Another tangent, but a necessary one:_

 _I love Tris._

 _Thank you, journal, you've helped me more than you know._


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: My Aroha

 _"_ _Tātā!"_

"Ah, Lily! You scared me," I laugh. Almost every day I go on a bike ride around the circumference of the whole island, which is about fifteen miles long. I am currently passing through one of the two main villages—Omoka. I go back and forth between the two since I live in between them.

"I do not want you to leave," she says somberly. The nine-year-old hugs my waist. "I do not believe you leave in week."

"I know, Lily. I don't want to leave either. I'll be back soon though. I promise."

"With your _aroha_?"

I grin. "Yes. Hopefully with my love."

"That will be her new name when I meet her, like how you are _Tātā._ I am excited to meet your _aroha._ "

"I'm excited for you all to meet her too."

"I—" she begins, but is cut of by her mother.

"Lily! Come help prepare supper!"

Lily gives me an exasperated look and rolls her eyes. "Goodbye, _Tātā._ I will see you in school tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Lily," I laugh with a wave. I begin my journey on my bicycle again.

I'm almost home with only about two or three more miles to go. Most of this bicycle journey of today has consisted of my thoughts revolving around my life in one week. December 23rd couldn't come faster.

It feels good to not have any American contact, if I'm being honest. I still worry about them—Christina, Zeke, and Uriah. I don't even know if they're alive.

I stop my bike as I leave Omoka Village. I turn it around and start pedaling toward the village again. The next place I find myself is in front of the only payphone on the island. My fingers dial Christina's number.

"Hello?" I hear a voice say. "Tris?" Christina says softly.

"It's Tobias."

She gasps and then squeals. "Tobias! Oh my God, it's so good to hear your voice. We didn't even know if you were alive, you fuckface!" she laughs.

I smile. "Can you get Zeke and Uriah on the phone?"

The frown in her voice is audible. "I wish. They're always gone anymore. Uriah got promoted, so he and Zeke work together doing the same thing you and Tris did."

"That's awesome!" I exclaim. I can actually feel my happiness in my heart. Seeing my friends prosper is one of the many things that make me elated. "So how've you been, Chrissy?"

"I've been… well, I've been amazing. Um… Yeah, so, Will proposed. We're set to marry in April."

I practically squeal like Christina herself. "Holy shit, Chris! That's amazing. God, I'm so happy for all of you."

"So I'm assuming you haven't heard from Tris at all," she says sadly.

I frown. "No. You?"

"Yeah, actually. She calls me once a week."

"Oh," I say with in a hint of surprise. I clear my throat. "How is she?"

Christina's voice wavers, sounding unsure. "I… Well, she says she's well and happy, but I don't believe it for a second. She… She met this guy. I guess he's supposed to be pretty great, but he sounds like an asshole to me. He's not half the man you are. Tris said that. Um, that he wasn't half the man. You know what I mean. I think she's using him to distract herself from her love you, to be honest."

I shrug. "If she wants me, she wants me. If she doesn't, then she doesn't. I'm happy without her. I've learned to do that here. I'm a changed man, Christina. I just… I love her, and if she doesn't love me then I guess I have to set her free and support her all I can."

Christina is silent for a minute. "If I wasn't engaged to Will I'd steal you from Tris, I swear to God. She doesn't appreciate you the way you need to be appreciated. Honest. Men like you don't come around too often."

This brings a smile to my face. "Love ya, Chrissy."

She laughs. "Alright, I better get back to work. I'll see you in a week, Tobias."

I grin. My friends are wonderful. "Bye, Chris."

I hang the phone.

The only thing on my mind—the only thing that swarms my thoughts—is the idea of seeing my _aroha._


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Homecoming

" _Tātā_ , I do not believe you must go," Adrian says to me. "Your _aroha_ must be very beautiful if you leave this island."

I smile as I look down at one of my brightest, most caring students. He looks back up at me with widest, brownest, most innocent eyes on the island. "She is very beautiful, Adrian, indeed, but you must look farther than that. You must look into their soul, and if they are beautiful on the inside as well, that is how you know they are worth it. Remember that when I leave."

He smiles, even though he is quite perplexed by what I said. "I will do that," he responds.

Today is my last day on Tongareva, the beautiful island south of empty space. I am terrified to leave. Not sad, not happy. I am absolutely petrified. There are not many things that I fear in this world, and my future is probably the one thing, if I had to choose, is the most terrifying. Especially at this point, my future lies in the hands of one person. I do not know why I worry—I will be happy with any result, even though one result might be happier than the other.

"We hope to see you again, and soon at that," a woman greets.

"Ms. Pomptë, I am so glad you have welcomed me into this school. Not only has this school and these children shaped me, but they have also reminded me of what is important in this world. You and your students have made me happy in a way I cannot express."

The older woman smiles. "We are glad you could find yourself, _Tātā."_

I grin. "I will visit soon, I promise."

She smiles, and then turns toward the kids.

I grab my bags that lie in the sand, and I wave.

"Bye, _Tātā_!" the large group of children shouts.

Grinning, I step on the boat where my journey awaits me.

I hope this is a good journey.

* * *

I step off the plane in a hurry. That eighteen-hour flight couldn't have been any more dreadful. All I could envision is her standing there in the baggage claim, where I stop, just for a minute, because I wouldn't be able to believe my eyes. I can't imagine anything more perfect than that exact scenario—and that's why I need to get the _hell_ out of this airport. I make my way to the baggage claim, maneuvering around the clusters of people visiting for Christmas.

I spot a head of blonde hair. My heart skips a beat for a second, and she turns toward me, and the unfamiliar face is laughing and smiling with her family. I shake my head and turn away.

 _Get out of here before you go absolutely mad._

My bag comes out of the carousel and I grab it in a rush. I release the handle and hurriedly drag it behind me. Weaving through the crowds is something I have become accustomed to. I hail a taxicab in no time.

"Corner of 27th and 4th please," I say to the driver.

"You got it."

When I arrive home, I see Tris's car, and I smile. She let me borrow it while she was gone.

I fumble for my keys and unlock my door. When I step inside, all I can smell is the sweet scent of the candle I burned right before I left. It is very welcoming. I throw my duffels down right by the door and grab my phone from my pocket. I haven't turned it on in an entire five months. The only people that ever even try to contact me are my friends, and they knew I wouldn't have cell service, so it is unlikely that they would text me. I wait a minute, and then I feel one buzz—only one.

 _Beatrice Prior_

 _Voicemail_

 _12/15/16_

 _Hi, Tobias. I heard you were in Tongareva. Congrats on making it there, I know you've always dreamed of it. I know you probably don't have any cell reception and you won't get this until you're back in the states, but I needed to send this for myself. I just want you to know that all I want is for you to be happy, okay? I hope you have found that in Tongareva. I'm still working on it here in Australia. I know you know I'm in Australia. I guess we aren't as far apart as we thought, huh? Only… Let's see… 4,000 miles? And from D.C. to Melbourne it'd be somewhere around 10,000 miles. So… yeah, we're closer than we think. Okay, I guess I'm done now. I'll see you… sometime. Hopefully before or on Christmas. My flight is scheduled for the 24_ _th_ _. Um… Yeah, so I'll see ya… I miss you._

When the message is complete, my cheeks are far wider than they should be. I know that I should not be grinning with all of my might right now, but I am, and I guess there's nothing I can do about it.

I decide to go to my workplace and reunite with my friends. When I arrive at the office, I immediately go to Chris's. I lean against the doorway and knock on the open door.

She glances up. "Tobias!"

Laughing, I open my arms to give her a hug.

"Man, I've missed you around this place. Been awful without you and Tris."

I nod. "I'd imagine."

I chuckle. "Did Tris ever tell you that she left me a voicemail? She actually tried to contact me."

"Oh my God, no. She didn't tell me that. What'd she say?" Chris questions doubtfully.

"Ah… Just that she wanted to tell me that she hopes I'm happy and that that's all she wants. I guess her flight is scheduled for the 24th. Today."

"Oh. Really? She said she wasn't coming back until the New Year. I guess she had it changed."

"Well when did she say it was New Years?"

"Um, about a week after she left."

I nod. "Yeah, that voicemail was the fifteenth, so I'd assume she had it changed."

"Yeah—" Chris begins, but is interrupted by a ringing.

I laugh, and so does she, but it falls as soon as she sees the caller ID.

"Hello?" Christina soon presses the speakerphone button.

"—stina," the girl says with a sigh of relief. "Listen…" _Tris._ "Oh, boy, this isn't going to make a lick of sense or sound even a little bit rational, but I'm coming back. I'm not going to Interpol. I have to have Tobias in my life."

"Woah, Tris… think about what you're doing. You're going a little fast. Not even hey, how are ya, best friend? But it's cool. I get it. 100%. But what about that guy in Australia? You said he was pretty amazing, remember? And you already told Max you were going to Interpol." She gives me a look—one that kind of says, "Trust me."

 _Christina, why are you discouraging her?_ I think to myself.

"Time will slowly pass on," Christina continues, "and you'll forget how much it hurts. Maybe you'll find something—or someone—else to fill that space in Lyon. That is, if you come back or even go to Interpol."

"Christina," Tris says adamantly. "You don't get it. I don't _want_ to find anything else. I want _him._ That guy in Australia? I was using him to distract myself. Purely that. He is not Tobias, and that is why I don't love him. I refuse to love that man."

Chris laughs, I almost do too. I am overjoyed. "Okay, Tris. Come home."

I hear the smile in Tris's voice. "I'm sitting on an airplane on the runway of the D.C. airport. There's some kind of hold up so we can't pull into the terminal. I'm going straight to Tobias's after this though."

My eyes practically jump out of their sockets.

"Wow, Tris. You're brave. How do you know he still wants you?" Chris questions.

"I don't. But I have to know as soon as possible. It's eating me alive," answers Tris. "Okay, I have to go. Wish me luck."

"Wait! Tris!" Christina exclaims, trying to keep her attention. "You can't go to his place."

"What? Why?"

Chris breathes in. "Because he's here. At the office."

Tris pauses. "Oh. So… you've talked to him?"

"Um, yeah."

"How is he?" she asks eagerly. "I mean, is good?"

Chris smirks at me. "Yeah. He's really happy."

Tris, again, pauses. "Did he meet someone?"

She laughs. "No. I'm pretty sure his eyes are only on you."

I can hear the smile through the phone. "We'll see. What should I do?"

"Well, where are you now?" Chris asks.

"Still on the plane. We've got a while until we get off."

Tris's best friend grins. "What if I picked you up at the airport? It could be one of those super cute, cliché, jump-into-each-other's-arms kind of things. You've always wanted to do that."

Another pause. "Fine. Gate G-13. Can't wait to have my moment with you," she laughs.

Christina grins. "Okay. Can't wait to see you."

"You too. Thanks for everything, Chris."

I stand there, wishing I were the one picking her up.

"What are you doing?" Chris asks incredulously. "You think I'm actually picking her up? Go!"

I jump and scramble for my keys. "Thank you, Chrissy." I receive many confused glares as I run through the agency, but that's not what I'm worried about right now. Hurriedly, I hop into my car and speed out of the parking lot.

My heart is jumping out of my chest. I almost cause multiple accidents because I am rushing and going an irrational speed over the posted limit. Worth it?

Absolutely.

When I arrive, I practically sprint to the escalator and impatiently go up the moving steps.

I run as far as I am allowed, and I wait. I let out a relieved breath, but soon it is sucked back in. I see Tris's small figure yards and yards away, and I grin.

It's her.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Rant

 _It's her._

The love of my life is coming closer and closer to me, and I am frozen. She is laughing and smiling, surprised to see me rather than her best friend. Before she starts running, she drops her duffels. I walk toward her, and she jumps into my arms. Tris practically knocks me over and I continue laughing. My head is trapped and tangled inside of her now short golden locks as I twirl her around. Eventually, I set her down. The look in her eyes is wild and sharp, and mine must be too. I feel her hands quickly reach out to my jaw, and she places them on either side of my head, rapidly pulling my lips down to hers. It's the only thing I have craved these past five months. Her lips are so damn sweet, just like every other time I have kissed her. Every time I have kissed her though, there are some small things that are different. Sometimes it's cherry and sometimes it's sugar. There is nothing as perfect in this world as Tris's kiss.

When she pulls back, her eyes are still closed while she grins. When she opens them, somehow, her grin grows.

"I love you," she tells me. "I love you so much, and I need you to know that before anything else happens. Life is so short, and you need to know that you are the one I want, because anything could happen, and, Jesus Christ, I am so in love with you, and these five months did nothing to change that."

I shake my head, smirking. I go to say something, but my mouth goes slack. I am met with a nervous looking Tris. She still wears a smile. Her new glasses suit her very well, going along with the t-shirt she wears.

 _Is that mine?_ I think to myself.

The only thing that surprises me is her short hair. Rather than it being to her breasts, it now lies at her shoulders. She looks amazing.

I can't say anything. I only encase her in yet another hug.

"Too much at once?" she nervously chuckles when she pulls back.

"No," I say quickly. "I just… You. You're here. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

She frowns. "You really thought that?"

I sigh, and then go to pick up her bags. "Tris, you left me in the middle of the night for five months with nothing but a note on my door… I… I didn't know what to believe anymore."

We start to walk together out of the airport. It's silent, but not awkward in the slightest. We get in my car, and I presume we're heading to her house.

When we arrive, she opens the door and smiles.

"Feel good to be home?" I ask her.

She closes the door. "Silly, I've been home ever since I ran into your arms."

I laugh, and then I hug her. "I love you."

She looks up at me. "Do you mean it?"

I nod my head. "Of course," I tell her easily.

"I just want you to know everything before we commit to each other," Tris begins. "I'm not going to lie. I'm going to talk for a good five minutes here, okay?" she laughs.

Smirking, I can only stare at her. "I love your rants like this. I love _you_."

She continues grinning. "I met someone in Australia. Before your hopes are down, know that he is nothing like you. Oh, God. What am I saying? Bad start. That's not how I meant it. This guy… I thought maybe I could forget you and distract myself from my true feelings. Obviously that didn't quite work out the way I thought it would. When I said he's nothing like you, I meant that in a good way. I was happy in Australia. I found how to love myself. I relied on you for my happiness, and that's where I went wrong. In fact, I think that's where we both went wrong. I hope you have found yourself too in Tongareva. I'm so glad you could make that happen. But I've decided to stay in D.C. Not go to Lyon. I think. Oh, boy. I didn't mean to bring this up yet. That's for later in my rant. I want you to know how much you mean to me, if you haven't yet understood my point. I regret not doing this as soon as we graduated from Peary. I wish I'd confessed my feelings for this pure and simple philosophical question: What if I died without telling you the truth? When I was shot, I realized how short life was. Even before I left for Australia and I after I got shot—that short day in between—I didn't have the balls to tell you I loved you in a real sense. I don't know if you still want me. Or maybe you do want me, but you know you shouldn't be with me because of your personal well-being. I understand. I will accept any outcome. One outcome will make me happier than I already am, and the other result…. Well I'd be… sad. I can't put it into words, which is crazy, because I'm a poet. I would only be able to show you. If you don't want me romantically, I don't know if we can remain friends. The weight is too much to bear. If we remain friends, it'd be torturous. I love you too much to do that. To be around you constantly, never being able to touch you or tell you how much I love you… That's the real killer, isn't it? Yet, when it really comes down to it, I'd rather have you as a friend than not at all. God, I might hate it, but if that's what you want, I understand. What was I thinking? I couldn't ever _not_ have you in my life. I do not know what you or I will want in a few years' time. If you want me, my future is crazy and unpredictable. If not, in maybe a year or two, I will move to Lyon. This sounds absolutely mad, and I can't believe I'm actually asking you this, but what if I asked you to move with me to Lyon? If you want to stay in America, I completely get it. I am very willing to stay. But just know that France is still an option. I'm very unsure about France myself. I'm crazy and unpredictable, but that's what life is about, so France also makes sense at the same time. I don't know. But anyway, your two cents?" she laughs.

I shake my head. "I love it. God, I love it."

She laughs, awaiting my answer.

"There was a lot going on in that," I laugh, "but I would be down to do whatever. There are teaching jobs everywhere in the world."

Tris's eyebrows rose. "Teaching, you said?"

I nod, humbly smiling. "Yeah. In Tongareva I taught English to all the kids. You know, they really want to meet you. My _aroha._ "

"Your what?" she laughs.

I smirk. "It means love. They called me _tātā._ Writer."

"Cute," she giggles. "Very cute."

"They plan on meeting you, someday. I talked about you often. They asked if I would return with my _aroha_."

She blushed a bit. "That's awesome."

"Listen, Tris," I begin after lengthy silence. "We've got quite a few problems. The first one that comes to mind is the fact that you left me with only a note. But, you know, that's just off the top of my head."

Tris laughs. "I know, Tobias. I know. It was stupid, but both you and I needed it."

I nod. "That's beside the point though. The fact is that you left me with a note. I'm not upset that you left. You're right. We needed that. However, the note was not the right way to handle it. I'm a very different person. I'm not sure you'll still love me, but I think this change is for the better."

She shakes her head. "I know. There is nothing you could possibly do to make me stop loving you though, Tobias."

"How can we do this?" I ask as we walk to the couch. Her expression shows confusion, so I elaborate. "Tris, how can we just cut off all communication for nearly half a year and just pick up right where we left off? We have problems. We can't just ignore them."

Tris crosses her arms and leans back on the couch, sighing. "I know. I… I shouldn't have just left a note. It was a tad dramatic. I didn't know what to do though, Tobias. I really didn't. We should've sat down and talked about it, and I should've let you say goodbye. I'm sorry."

I stand up and walk over to the sliding door that leads out to my balcony. The view is something, even though I am not too high up. "A simple sorry does not fix everything. I'm not sorry we had a break from each other, but I'm sorry that we said goodbye the way we did. You were right to say that we needed time apart, but… God, not knowing if you were even alive gave me such unrest. How can I trust you again? How do I know you won't do the same thing and go to Lyon without any notice?" I ask.

Tris still sits on the couch. "If you don't want me, I'm moving to Lyon. I am happy without you, but I want you. I just _want_ you. I will be happy here, with you, and I will be happy in Lyon, without you. But… maybe I'd be a little extra happy with you."

She stands and walks toward the window, joining me. I only stare out to the city. She wraps her arms around my waist, and her cheek lies on my back.

She stands on her tiptoes and whispers, "There is nothing holding us back anymore. We can just be happy, Tobias."

I feel her arms unravel me, and I already miss her warmth.

Turning around, I ask, "Tris, what about our friends? We can't just leave everybody important in our lives."

Tris somewhat grins. "Here's the thing… This sucks. I was going to wait for her to tell you, but Christina got a job in Lyon at Interpol with me. She and Will are for sure moving there. And… honestly, I'm happy for her. This is an amazing opportunity. No one knows except for me. But Tobias, if it weren't for you I'd be in Lyon right now."

"Tris," I say with contempt, "if you're not happy here then go to Lyon. It's that simple."

She scoffs. "Are you fucking kidding me, Tobias? I've explained this. I want Lyon, but I want you more. Get it through your stubborn head and thick skull. If I wanted Lyon more than I wanted you, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I would be in France if that were the case. Do you understand that, Tobias Keith?"

I roll my eyes, but I don't say anything because I know she's right. I continue staring at the floor.

"Tobias Keith Eaton."

My head snaps up, and I know she is now serious due to the use of my full name.

"I understand," I finally respond.

"Good," she says irritably. "I'm just sick and tired of wasting time, you know? We of all people know about that."

Grinning, I walk closer to her. "You are one hundred percent right," I tell her. My arms wrap around her waist, and I lean my forehead against hers. "So let's stop wasting time."

Then I feel her lips land on mine.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: May Our Happiness Be Infinite

I walk into the CIA for the first time in five months. Yesterday, Christmas, Tris and I spent the day as we had planned: Christmas classics and each other was all we needed. We didn't meet up with any friends because they were all with whatever family they had. Tris and I, however, could not relate due to the fact that we had no family. Tris's brother, who she was close with since she was a child, lived in Seattle, so that was obviously a bit difficult. The day she arrived back, though, Tris, Christina, Will, Shauna, Marlene, and myself went out to dinner. Unfortunately, Zeke and Uriah were on a mission. They were supposed to be back by Christmas day, but while in Romania they encountered quite a bit of snow, causing their flight to be delayed.

Because Tris and I have nothing else better to do, we decide to take a mission the day following Christmas and hopefully be back by New Year's Eve so we can start the year with friends.

When we walk in, we receive stares. Our pinkies are loosely hooked together, and I couldn't be happier. To me, the subtle gestures are the monumental ones. We get coffee together, just like we did every other morning before our break.

I order her a three-cream and three-sugar coffee, and I order a black.

We strut up to our department and go straight to Max's office.

Tris removes her hand from mine so she can knock on his door.

When it opens, we see a wide grin from our boss.

"Come in, guys. Man, I'll tell you what, it's been so _boring_ without you. Such a relief to have you both back. You two and your stories when you come back from those missions… always a delight."

Tris and I laugh in unison.

"Well, it's great to be back, sir," I tell him.

"So, I'm going to guess that you two are together now? I noticed your hooked pinkies on your way here. You're going to need to file an official relationship statement with the HR Department," he informs.

We nod, and then Tris asks a question. "Sir, when we went through training at Peary, it was clear that we were not supposed to date within our department, let alone partners, so why is this permitted?"

"Rules change," Max explains. "It makes perfect sense to date within the CIA, because then you wouldn't be lying to your significant other. Departmentally, it made sense as well. Departments and affiliations are growing closer, so hard to _not_ find someone you work with directly. Anyhow, we've been coming up short lately with you two on leave, so we've got a number of missions for you two. You start immediately."

"Outstanding," Tris says. "What've we got?"

"The usual. A little like your Colombian mission. Oliver Montag, a Venezuelan drug cartel leader, needs to be shut down. He's holding three American citizens captive because they stumbled upon one of his deals. This time, it's the three senators' daughters that were on vacation. It's you guys' jobs to save them. Swoon over Oliver. Get him drunk. High. Anything to get him to tell you where they are. Once you apprehend them, take them to the embassy. You two will go back to your hotel and leave the next morning, like normal. Tris, here is $150 for a dress—find something nice. Four, just wear your tux. You guys leave no later than tomorrow morning depending on flights. While you guys are out shopping, I'll be looking for flights to Caracas, Venezuela's capital. I'll email you guys your tickets. Now," he pauses. He grabs something from his desk—a manila folder stuffed thick with papers. I take it from him outreached hand. "Here's your next mission. You'll fly directly from Venezuela back to America. I'm giving you this folder now because when you arrive back here, your flight for Cuba leaves only four hours later. Any questions?"

"So, just the usual?" Tris asks. "Entice the guy, get him drunk, save the people."

Max nods.

Tris chuckles as she stands. "Livin' the dream, huh? We'll be waiting for that text. See you later, boss."

Max laughs as Tris walks out. "Is she okay? You know, after the whole getting shot thing," he continues chuckling.

I give a short laugh. "Yeah. I mean… she hasn't really talked about it. If there were something wrong, I'd know. She's not very good at hiding her feelings from me."

He nods with a knowing smile. "You two are good for each other, you know. Ever since the beginning, even as friends and coworkers, you two belong in each other's lives. And this is going to sound crazy, but you two should go to France. I know about the offer Tris got over there. Christina told me when she put in her Two Weeks Notice. It would make me very sad, as a boss, to lose you, Tris, Christina, and Will all at one time, but as a friend, I know it is what's best for you. All of you. Ultimately it is your choice, but just know that wherever Tris is, that is your home. Love will save the day, Four. No matter how much happens that may discourage you from believing so, it always saves the day in the end. The love we take is equal to the love we make, Tobias. Just remember that."

I smile. "Thank you, Max."

"Oh, one more thing. Here are those papers for the in-office relationship."

"Thank you," I tell him with a smile. After I walk out, I see Christina and Tris talking amongst themselves, so I join in.

They immediately stop speaking when I join them.

I nervously laugh. "What, are you guys talking shit?"

They laugh as well. "I'll tell you later. Now, let's go pick out a dress for your fine girlfriend," Tris says with a chuckle.

Christina is surprised as Tris's word usage just as much as I am, but I don't let it show.

"Yeah," Christina teases with a smirk. "Go pick out a dress with your _fine girlfriend_."

I roll my eyes, but Tris tugs me away.

"Bye, Chris!" Tris shouts.

When we arrive at the mall, Tris goes straight to her favorite dress shop, and she grins as she walks over to the formal section. Since the dresses are organized by color, she goes to the section of black and white.

"You know what would be crazy, Tris? If you got something that _wasn't_ black or white. I know. Wild," I tease.

She laughs. "Shut up."

I look through the dresses with her, and as we look, I ask her a very simple but meaningful question. "Girlfriend?"

She looks over at me, but I continue sifting through the dresses.

"I mean… yeah," she says nervously. "After yesterday… I don't know… Yesterday we just watched Christmas movies and cuddled and made hot cocoa and when I got back from Australia we kind of professed our love for each other, so there's that… I don't know, I guess I just thought—"

"Tris," I interrupt with a laugh. "Quit. I was just curious. Don't worry about it."

She shakes her head, then hands me a white dress. "You know, Chris was asking me about what happened between us when I got back. Asking if we did anything."

"As in…" I begin. Another dress in my hands.

"Yes." She hands me a sparkly black one. "I'm glad we didn't do anything right away." This time, a red dress. "But I'm not a patient woman," she says in a low, seductive voice. Then she makes her way to the fitting room.

My brows rise in shock, and I am frozen, but eventually I follow as if I were under a spell.

The fitting rooms are large, so Tris waves her hand for me to follow her in.

"Bad idea," I tell her as I step in. "Bad idea."

She smirks, and then takes off her sweater, leaving her in a bra. Next, her jeans are gone, which leaves her in her underwear.

"Very bad idea."

Her black bra is lace-covered, and her underwear matches.

"You're fucking kidding me, Tris. Seriously? Not fair."

She shrugs then walks over to the stack of dresses.

"Thank you for coming shopping with me. I'm sure you'd rather be anywhere else than carrying around my dresses. I appreciate it."

I laugh. "Tris, you've got this all wrong. There is no where I would rather be than right here, watching you try on dresses."

She playfully slaps my arm. "Shut up."

"I was serious. I love everything you do."

She smiles as she attempts to zip up the white dress. "I love you."

"Here," I tell her. "Let me."

She turns around, and I swipe her hair around to the front of her body. I zip up the dress, and then kiss her neck from behind. As soon as she turns around my mouth drops.

The white dress looks absolutely amazing on her. It suits and complements her curves perfectly. The dress itself is long, to her ankles, long-sleeved, has a leg slit up to her hip, and plunges between her breasts, making her look voluptuous. Though her breasts are not big, it suits her amazingly. "You… Don't even bother trying on any other dresses, Tris. This… You… I can't believe you're mine."

/link/927719#

She laughs and then looks down, flustered. "What color heels?"

I shrug. "White? Not the block kind. The pointy ones that are real high. Those are my favorite."

"You mean wedges. And stilettos," she corrects with a giggle. "I have some white stilettos at home. What about my hair?"

"Oh!" I exclaim excitedly. "One of those messy buns except with a… oh, it's called a braid. The European one."

She laughs. "French."

"Do that. I love your messy buns. I love you."

She laughs then struts over to me. "I love you too." She stands on her tiptoes and places a kiss on my lip.

"What about jewelry? Anything?" she asks. She manages to unzip the dress and slip out of it on her own. She quickly puts on her normal clothes.

I smile. "Well… I was going to wait, but I'm getting a little anxious." I reach into my pocket for the chain. "I made this for you in Tongareva. It's not a fancy or expensive diamond or anything, but… Here." I hand her the necklace of transformed scrap metal, and she holds it in her hand carefully. On the chain, it is simply an infinity sign.

"May our happiness be infinite," I tell her with a shy smile.

She grins, and her face turns soft. "Tobias…"

I shrug. "It's not that big of a—"

"Yes it is," she interrupts. "Thank you. I absolutely adore it."

I smile as she puts the wide chain around her neck. "You're welcome, _aroha_."

Tris chuckles as she opens the door with her white dress in hand. I grab the others and hand them on the rack with the other unwanted clothes.

When we leave the store and we arrive at Tris's, I waste no time doing as she suggested earlier.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Simply Happy

 _All poems are by Rupi Kaur from a collection of poems call "Milk and Honey." It is absolutely amazing, 10/10. It changed my perspective on life and I truly hope it can change yours._

I roll over, breathless. Tris's eyes are closed, and she's grinning the widest grin I've ever seen. Her hair is spread all across her pillow, messy. When she rolls on her side and opens her eyes, they are bluer than ever.

So much for moving slow, like I promised myself I would.

"You," I say softly. I pause, shaking my head. "You are so beautiful."

Tris moves so her head is lying on my shoulder and her leg is across my body. "Do you realize how so totally in love with you I am?"

I shake my head. "Tell me. You are a poet, aren't you?"

She rolls over again and gets up from the bed. Bare, I see her bottom move back and forth, her hips swaying. She grabs her journal from her desk, and walks back over. First, she grabs my button-up shirt and puts it on.

"Stunning," I tell her.

She lies on her stomach and props her elbows up so she can hold the book.

"God, there's too many," she laughs. "I love writing about you. It's so easy. Oh, okay, here's one."

She shakes her head while reading it to herself, astounded by her own feelings she probably just realized were so strong.

"i know i

should crumble

for better reasons

but have you seen

that boy he brings

the sun to its

knees every

night"

"I don't know how to explain this one. And that's how poems should make you feel, right? Speechless?"

I nod. "Your words are so beautiful, Tris."

"Last one, I promise."

"Woah," I interrupt. "You make it sound like this is a drag. I adore everything about you—especially your words. I could listen to your voice—your poems—for the rest of my life, Tris."

She grins and then looks down at the book again.

"love is not cruel

we are cruel

love is not a game

we have made a game

out of love"

She shrugs. "I wrote this on the way to Australia. It was just how I felt after… everything. I was the one who made it a game. I should've talked you about instead of writing a damn note… And I just… God, I feel like I just tortured you these past years, making you feel like shit, teasing you… I don't know."

"Tris." I sit up. "Here's the thing. We're both responsible for the way things ended up. You are not a prize to be won. You did not 'advertise' yourself to me, because you are not a product. You needed to be with me when you were ready, and it is that simple. I don't regret the way things happened, because if things happened differently, who knows where we'd be?"

Tris grins, sets her book down, and throws her legs on either side of me. She almost goes to respond, but she can tell she doesn't even need to by the look in my eyes.

"Unbelievable," I whisper. "Absolutely unbelievable."

"What?" she whispers, leaning over, her lips coming closer and closer. "Can't believe your eyes?"

I shake my head. "I will never believe my eyes."

Her lips briefly touch mine, but a ringing interrupts.

She groans, and then reaches over to her phone.

"Prior. Max. 3? Seriously?" Another groan. "Fine. Yeah. You too."

"Please tell me we aren't leaving at three in morning, babe," I say as she remains on top of me.

"We're leaving at three in the morning. And… ugh, it's ten o'clock. I didn't think it was this late."

"Late night shower?" I ask.

She grins and gets up from her current position, walking to her bathroom. I see my shirt slip off of her smooth body, and I'm left seeing her bare back. She twists her head around as she turns on the shower. The clear glass hides nothing, and as she steps in, she runs her hands through her hair and closes her eyes.

I shake my head and get up, following her.

Hesitantly, I follow her into the shower. She slides the door open for me, and then pulls me in. She tugs on my hair, pulling me down to her lips.

I was happy while in Tongareva. Truly. I know now, that I am able to be happy without Tris, but when I'm with her, it's like it is happiness on acid or speed or _something_. I'm usually better at explaining my emotions, due to the fact I am a writer, but she simply makes me go into overload; I have so many things to say and do that the only way to show her how much I care for her is through my writing.

I pull back and lean my forehead against hers.

"Happy," I say simply.

She gives a small laugh. "What?"

"Happy. Simple. If this isn't true happiness, I don't know what is."

Tris kisses me again. "Couldn't agree more."

* * *

When we arrive in Venezuela, it's hotter than we expected. It was only ten degrees in D.C., now it's about 65 degrees. At eight o'clock at night though, it tends to get a little chillier than normal. So, of course, I give my jacket to Tris, knowing very well that I will probably never get it back.

We quickly arrive at the hotel, since the party begins at nine. We hurriedly get ready for the party. More so, I get ready quickly. It only takes me a couple minutes to put on my suit, but it takes a bit longer for her to do her makeup and hair. The result, though, is worth the wait. She is absolutely stunning, like usual.

"Heavenly."

I slowly grab her hips and pull her closer to me. A slow kiss is all we have time for, so I grab her hand and entwine our fingers.

"So, for Oliver Montag, will I be single or married? Max never clarified, so I guess it's up to us," Tris says open-endedly.

I shrug. "What works best for the mission?"

She shrugs as well. "I don't know. I'm glad our relationship doesn't affect the way we work though. No jealousy."

I chuckle. "Well, maybe I'll dream about hurting every guy who looks at you, but, of course, I will not do that out of respect for the love of my life."

Tris giggles. "I appreciate it. I think that Colombia with Morales was one of our best-executed missions. I portrayed a young, outgoing, charming girl while you act as the submissive boyfriend who somehow got lucky enough to score the wild girl, when really they have everything in common."

"Which is absolutely true in reality. You are extroverted and I am in no way outgoing. Can't deny it," I argue.

She shakes her head, looking down, and a strand of her hair strays loose from her bun. "But you're my equal. Not submissive."

I laugh, and we walk into the party, which has already started. It is Venezuelan culture to arrive late, so we've made sure to do so. One of the greatest things about travelling all over the world is learning about the cultures and their beliefs. It is amazing how the human culture can develop into so many different branches of ways of life.

Tris walks directly over to the bar, dragging me by our linked hands. "Dos Cuba Libres por favor," she asks the bartender.

"Hey," I say, "what if I didn't want… whatever that is."

She laughs. "Trust me, you want a Cuba Libre. Rum and Coke. The Coke is absolutely outstanding here."

I chuckle. "Fair enough."

When the bartender finishes making our drinks, Tris thanks him and gives a smile.

"Care to dance?" she asks. She shakes her hips back and forth to South American music, grabs my hand and pulls me closer to her on the dance floor. I take a sip of my drink then make a sour face; one that a child might make when sucking on a lemon.

"Strong," I explain, "yet tasty."

Tris shakes her head, smirking. Tris attempts to shout over the music, but I'm unable to hear.

"What?" I shout.

She waves a hand of dismissal. "Later," I see come from her lips.

I shake my head then drag her off the dance floor. We walk over to the back porch, when bass in rumbling through the deck.

"I've learned so much over these past couple months, including that life is too short. So, tell me what's up," I insist.

She grins. "I love you."

I shake my head. "I love you too, but that's not what you said."

Her face gets a little bit darker, and she mumbles something.

I smirk, and then she grabs my hand. "I don't think I heard you," I tell her.

She smiles. "I'm just… I don't know. I really did say I love you out there though. Now's not really the time, but there's no way you're letting me go unless I say something important. I was going to tell you how much I appreciate you, because obviously you hate being here. I understand. I know you love your job and everything and working together… but I don't know. If you want to switch partners or something—"

"Tris," I laugh. "No. This job is one of the best things that ever happened to me. This crazy, dangerous, risky, terrible, wonderful job is the reason we are even possible. I never want you to stop being my partner while we are in the CIA. But we're moving to Lyon. We should move to Lyon, Tris."

She steps back in joyful laughter. "Are you serious, Tobias? You'll do it? You're willing to do this for me?" She steps closer, then lies a hand on my cheek. "For us?"

I smile. "Not only for you, but me as well. I believe that I would be so much happier in France with you, teaching. We could get an apartment together, or a house, whichever you want. A dog, since you hate cats. Decorate however we want, since you've always loved doing that."

Her hand covers her mouth and she has tears in her eyes. Quickly, she wraps her arms around me, standing on her tiptoes, hugging me like there's no tomorrow.

"I can't wait," she whispers. I can hear the happiness and hope in her voice. "Okay," she says as she pulls back. "Let's go. We've got a job to do. We have to survive in order to look for places in France."

"I suppose—"

"What's the ruckus about?" a man shouts to us. He grins as he saunters over in a drunken stupor. "Have we got some good news?"

Tris looks at me with wide eyes, and then completely changes her expression when she looks at Oliver.

"Oliver, it's been too long!" she acts. His facial expression exudes confusion, so she portrays a look of hurt. "You don't remember? Shame, Oliver! It is I, Mariana, and my boyfriend Jack."

"Jack… Mariana…" Oliver mumbles. "Ah, yes! Jack and Mariana! It has been too long, my friends…"


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Nothing Safer

"No!" Tris shouts at me. "Stop! You can't kill him. You can't, Tobias. We…We'll figure out a way. We've already got him. There's no reason to kill him. Plus he can lead us to where the hostages are. Tobias, put the gun down," she pleads.

I shake my head, but do nothing. I refuse to take my eyes off of him. "Tris," I growl. "He _shot_ you."

"Tobias," she shouts. "Again. We need him. The bullet only skimmed my shoulder. I have handcuffs in my hand. I'm going to cuff him, and he's going to lead us to those three American hostages, aren't you, dear old Ollie?"

He grunts as Tris puts the handcuffs on him, and I eventually put my gun in its hidden holster.

"On your feet," Tris yells at him in a killer kind of tone.

"What's in it for me, sweetheart?" Oliver says venomously.

"On your feet!" I yell, even louder. Soon, he gets up.

Tris takes the knife from her thigh holster and presses it against his back.

"Move."

She follows him as they follow me.

"What are you, anyway," Oliver begins with chortle, "18?"

Tris gives a bitter laugh. "If I was 18, I'd be the sexiest 18-year-old you've ever seen."

Oliver laughs. "Ah… I kid, I kid. 25?"

"24," Tris corrects dully.

"Ah, even better," Oliver says. "You know, I'm only 27."

"Oh, come _on_ , you freak. I have a great life and love. Do you honestly think I would give all that up to be with some deadbeat Venezuelan drug dealer? that _shot_ me? Funny guy," she says, rolling her eyes.

I only smirk.

"How does that make you feel, man?" he asks me. "Tobias, is it?"

"Jealous as hell," I tell him without turning around. "Whoever that guy may be is damn lucky."

"Man, tell me about it. You seen that ass of hers? Da—"

"I have an actual knife pointed at your back and you're going to talk about my ass as if I weren't even here? Really? That's not very wise."

He laughs. "You need me. You said it yourself. What've I got to lose anyway? You'll turn me in as soon as you're done with me. So, anyway, man, Tobias, I'd be walking behind her just to see that sweet—"

"Listen," I interrupt in a directly rude tone. "Just because we're both males doesn't mean we have anything in common, so just shut the hell up and stop talking to my girlfriend like that you arrogant ass."

Oliver stops walking and laughs. "You're telling me," he says to Tris, "that this guy, right here, is your boyfriend. You… Ha! This is gold. You are so sexy, Mariana. Or Tris. I don't give a shit. You—"

"Shut the hell up," Tris shouts. "Walk. Don't say another word unless you're telling us where to go."

We continue walking down the deserted alley in silence.

"Izquierda."

I laugh. "Seriously? You think that you're tricky because you say it in Spanish? Think that we won't get it? We are CIA agents. We know over four languages."

Oliver rolls his eyes, contempt, as we turn left.

"Here," Oliver says. "The three are in there. Take back your stupid Americans. They're a drag anyway, thinking I would actually kill them. Your people are weak."

"Shut up, Montag," Tris says, then pushes him through the door.

"Upstairs," he says as if he was bored.

"Guards?" I ask.

"One upstairs in front of the door," he responds.

"Bring him up," I tell Tris.

We walk up the stairs and the guard is quick to point his gun.

"No dispares, Martinez," Oliver commands. "No. Deje que los rehenes se vayan."

"Sí señor."

The guard opens the door, and there is only but a faint light bulb hanging from the center of the room.

I rush into the room and take the rags out from their mouths.

"My name is Tobias. My partner and me are with the CIA. She has the man who kidnapped you. Do you guys have any injuries?" I ask as I unravel the their ties.

They all shake their heads.

"We're going to be taking you to the American Embassy and you are going to be on the first flight back to America. It's okay. You guys can trust me. I know your moms and dads and they're worried sick. Let's get you guys home."

They have tear-ridden faces, black smeared throughout their cheeks from their makeup.

"Thank you," one of them whispers.

The American Embassy is merely a street over, luckily, so not too much suspicion is raised as to why Tris has a dagger held at a man's back.

"Hello," Tris says to the lady at the front desk. "My name is Beatrice Prior and that is my partner Tobias Eaton. We are in the CIA. I hope our boss Max has informed you of our situation beforehand."

The woman stands up. "Yes, yes, please come this way. We'll get you girls cleaned up and bandaged."

"Wait," Tris says. "Oliver Montag. Not quite sure why the Venezuelan government doesn't know about him, but he's been a major part of the cartels being shipped to Miami. He needs to be arrested."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll call the police and they'll send someone," she responds. "Gloria, please show these people to the back room. A couple of them need first aid, minor injuries."

The woman nods towards us. "Thank you both for your service. I'm sure you two are very tired, so feel free to return to your hotel. We'll call Max if we have any questions."

We nod. "Thank you."

As we walk out of the embassy, we sigh. I can tell Tris's heels are hurting her feet and her dress is beginning to become uncomfortable.

"Honey, do you want me to carry you? Or hold your heels, or something?"

She shakes her head. "No, thank you though. I know the hotel is only a block away, but can we grab a cab? I'm miserable."

"Yeah, of course. And when we get back to the room, I'm stitching up and bandaging that bullet skim. I don't want you going to the hospital because they have to report all gunshot wounds, so they would launch an investigation if you told them about Morales. It shouldn't be too bad. Can I drape my jacket over your shoulders though? I don't want anyone wondering why you have a blood-stained arm." I notice a yellow car with a light and wave it down.

"Of course," she says.

I take off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders as the driver pulls the car to the curb.

"A una cuadra, por favor," I tell the cab driver. My arm is wrapped around Tris's shoulders and her head lies on my shoulder. She exhales a large sigh, so I slightly raise my hand to play with her hair. I slowly move my chin so I can kiss the top of her head. Her eyes close, but the taxi roughly pulls over to our hotel.

Tris groans, but scoots out of car as I pay the man.

I place my hand on her shoulder as we walk through the hotel. When we arrive at our room, she immediately sits on the bed and takes off her heels.

"Please grab the first-aid from my suitcase so that I can pass out as soon as possible," Tris tells me.

Concerned, I rush over to her to with the kit in hand. I sit down on her left and open the kit.

"Tris," I say softly, "what if that bullet was six inches over?"

She shrugs. "I suppose it might not have hit me."

I shake my head. "The other way."

Tris looks down. "I suppose it might have hit my heart," she whispers.

I nod as I clean the wound. "Yeah," I mumble. "Yeah."

"I love you," Tris tells me, "and I'm so terrified of losing you. I'm so afraid of you dying because of me, and I'm so afraid of you being alive without me being alive. I mean… What would happen to you if I died? What would happen to me if you died? This business is so fucking terrifying, Tobias."

I smile and wrap the bandage around her arm. "Tris. I love you too, first of all. Second, you can't live your life in constant fear or what ifs. We can only live while we're still alive."

She nods. "You're right. You're totally right."

I kiss her arm once it's all patched up and put the kit back in Tris's suitcase.

She stands up and walks to the bathroom. I take off my jacket and my tie, but don't get very far before Tris calls my name.

"Babe, can you help me for a second?"

I walk into the bathroom and see her fiddling with the zipper, but she finally gives up.

"Can you unzip my dress?" she asks with a pouty face.

Smirking, I walk behind her. "I don't know," I whisper in her ear. "What do you get in return?" I swipe her hair to the side then kiss her neck.

She laughs. "My cuddles tonight."

I continue kissing her neck as I unzip her dress. It drops to the floor, and she laughs.

"I love this. I love us," she tells me. She turns around and puts her palms on my chest, then stands on her tiptoes to kiss me. My hands lie on her hips, and then I feel her start to unbutton my shirt.

"When does our flight leave?" she mumbles as I continue kissing her neck.

"Noon. What do you say to sleeping in and a brunch in bed?" I suggest.

She grins. "Nothing sounds more perfect than lying in bed with you in South America eating pancakes."

I grin and take her hand, leading her to the bed. She lies there on her side, confused. Her suitcase contains the journal of her poems, so I grab it and hand it to her.

"Can you read me all of your poems?" I ask softly. I take off everything but my boxers, so Tris grabs my collared button-up shirt and puts it on after taking off her bra.

I turn off most of the lights except for the one she needs to read, so I lay down, and she lies on my chest.

"I love that you like to listen to my poems," she tells me softly. "It means a lot."

I shake my head. "Nothing is safer than the sound of you reading aloud to me."

She smiles and breathes out.

"you might not have been my first love

but you were the love that made

all the other loves

irrelevant"

I only grin.

"most importantly love

like it's the only thing you know how

at the end of the day all this

means nothing

this page

where you're sitting

your degree

your job

the money

nothing even matters

except for love and human connection

who you loved

and how deeply you loved them

how you touched the people around you

and how much you gave them"

I grin continuously, so hard that it starts to hurt my face. "Can I interrupt?" I ask. I don't wait for her answer. "I absolutely adore you. You're exquisite, drop-dead gorgeous, sexy, brilliant, caring, and calm. I have no idea how I managed to win you over, but I'm glad I did. I am so incredibly in love with you. Your exquisiteness is absolutely the number one reason that I am so in love with you, though. Your exquisiteness combines all of these things together, and—"

She shakes her head then sits up completely. "Pencil!"

"I just professed my love for you," I laugh, "and—"

"Tobias. Pencil."

I laugh and grab the pencil on my side on the nightstand. "Here, Your Majesty."

She scribbles for only thirty seconds and then grins.

"he placed his hands

on my mind

before reaching

for my waist

my hips

or my lips

he didn't call me

beautiful first

he called me

exquisite"

She continues speaking. "I adore you." She goes on again after lying her head down on my stomach.

"I didn't leave because

I stopped loving you

I left because the longer

I stayed the less

I loved myself"

I stop playing with her hair. Tris remains silent, as do I. It's not hard to interpret what the poem met—it was very straightforward. It just hurts. I was the one that made Tris not love herself. Because she was here, she didn't feel happy. Sure, she loved me, but she wasn't happy. It hurts. It really does.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I didn't… I mean… It's true. But it wasn't because of you," Tris tries to quickly mend. "I didn't leave because you made me love myself less and less. I left because I needed to think. I mean, we've been over this."

I nod in understanding. "I get it, Tris. Same circumstances with my going to Tongareva."

She nods. "Okay. Thank you for understanding."

"Don't be offended if I fall asleep while you read aloud. I love falling asleep to the sound of your voice," I tell her.

She smiles up at me. "Okay."

Tris continues reading as I close my eyes and flick my fingers around through her short golden locks. Eventually I drift off, but I feel Tris move me down to a more comfortable position. She turns off the lights and I wrap my arms around her, entwining our legs.

"I love you," I tell her softly. "So very much."

I feel her place a safe kiss on my lips. "I love you too."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: The End of the Process (Pt. 2)

 _The rest of the chapters will be similar to these: short and cute. There are 31 chapters total... four more left!_

Butterfly. Butterfly. Butterfly. It feels as if butterflies are softly landing atop my skin. My eyes flutter open much like their wings and I'm met with tired, gorgeous blue eyes. I feel a butterfly land on top of my lips again and realize it is not a winged creature with blue eyes, but my beautiful best friend's lips.

"Good morning," I say softly.

She smiles. "I ordered room service. Two scrambled eggs, two slices of apple wood smoked bacon, and two pancakes with butter and _extra_ maple syrup."

"God, you're the fucking love of my life," I tell her. "What'd you order for yourself?"

"Two Belgians and eggs. Mimosas for both of us," she answers. "Said it'd take at least 25 minutes… Care to shower?"

"I'll go first," I tell her with a wink.

"Or…," she begins with a teasing tone, "we can save both water and time. How does that sound?"

I grin. "Okay. Let's save the environment."

We undress and step into the shower while she giggles. I kiss her under the steaming water and brush the wet hair out of her eyes. She stands on her tiptoes again and kisses me.

She grins and takes the little hotel shampoo and begins scrubbing my hair. She can barely reach due to my height, but she makes it work.

I groan. "Quit your job. Become one of those people who have to wash hair at salons. Except, like, just _my_ hair," I joke.

She laughs and rinses my hair. "I can think of a lot better things to do to you."

I roll my eyes and turn around when she's done. "Tease."

Tris starts to wash her own hair, so I take over and scrub her short locks while she faces me. She takes a washcloth and starts to wash my chest, and I smile.

When we're finished, we step out and dry off. After an innocent shower together, we both feel content. Tris is ass naked when someone knocks on the door, so she squeals. I laugh and answer the door fully clothed and close the bathroom door.

"Thank you," I tell the man who brings the door. I tip him and open the bathroom door.

"Coast is clear," I laugh. "Now come and enjoy this awesome breakfast."

She wears a pair of black athletic shorts and one of my tees. She looks beautiful with her wet hair and glasses, too. We carry our plates outside and eat outside in the cool 70-degree air.

"Hey, Tris," I say carefully. "Can we talk?"

She sits up from her chair with concern. "What's up?"

"What exactly will you be doing in Lyon?" I ask.

She takes a sip of her mimosa. "Well… Pretty much the same thing I'm doing now, except solo. I'll be gone for days at a time, so it'll suck being away from you. I mean, travelling is what I love. There'll always be somewhere I haven't been."

I nod. "Can you show me the world, Tris?" I ask randomly. "We just put in our two weeks. Let's take off these next two weeks and two months to do that road trip you did across the world. Show me everything you know. There's no better time than now."

She's frozen, wearing a smile. "Yeah. Okay. We leave after we get back from this mission. Tomorrow. We leave tomorrow. Oh my God, I'm about to travel world with the love of my life at age 26."

She sets her plate down on the table between us and gets up and sits on my lap, looking out towards Caracas. She leans back against my chest and closes her eyes. "Our lives rock."

I laugh. "I'm so grateful. When I was a kid, I had no idea that any of this could happen to me. I thought I would just be working at some desk job in Chicago, living life the same every single day. I never thought I'd be going around the world with the most important person in my life. I'm so fucking lucky."

Tris breathes in and then out. "Where would you live if you could live absolutely anywhere?"

Without hesitation, I answer. "Washington D.C."

She tilts her head to the side in confusion. "Why?" she asked. "You've lived there for how many years, and out of all the places you choose home? I know you crave exploration, so why stay?"

I nod, understanding where all of her questions come from. "It's the place where my life got turned right-side up. It was upside-down before I met you. Washington D.C. is where I met both you and myself."

She smiles, but then loses it as she shakes her head. "I can't do this. I can't do this to you. I can't turn your life upside down again, Tobias. I can't ask you to drop your life here and come to Lyon."

"No," I tell Tris, shaking my head. "The only things that even matter in life are love and human connection. You said it yourself. Screw everything else. I have my love, and I have my human connection. My friends will be there. I'll be teaching. Will and Chris will be in Lyon too, and I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Zeke and Shauna are moving to Geneva, Switzerland, which is only an hour and a half train ride. Uriah and Marlene? Turin, Italy. Four hours. We can all meet in the middle. Everything we need—everything that matters—is in Europe. Our lives could not be on a better track than right now, babe."

Tris grins. "Okay. Alright. Let's… move to Europe."

"I love you," I tell her.

She reaches over and grabs her plate as she continues sitting on my lap and takes a bite of her eggs.

She shakes her head yet again. "I can't believe this. I'm so incredibly in love with you, and I can finally tell you, and there's nothing that could possibly fuck this is up."

As we finish our breakfasts, we sit outside looking at Caracas. "Hey, our flight starts boarding in an hour, we better get going."

Tris gets up and I follow.

"You know," she says as we pack up, "this almost three-month vacation isn't going to be any picnic. We'll probably only shower once or twice a week and we'll sleep in the car every night. When I was in South America and Africa, I often found a secluded waterfall and would take my soap and stuff and wash up there. We can likely get a hotel once every three weeks. But I'm just saying, we'll probably eat canned foods most of the time, eat out once a week. When we're in the Southern Hemisphere, it'll be crazy hot near the equator, too. And in Northern Russia, it'll be hella cold. Like, -15."

"Please," I tease, "you're colder than –15 degrees. You should've felt your feet last night. Practically icicles."

She laughs, and I smile. Her smile could bring me to my knees, and her laugh could make me collapse entirely. In the moment as I think about her laughter, I remember why I fell in love with her and do it all over again.

I guess I lost it again.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Jump: North America

 _Hey guys, I know I don't do author's notes very often and i'm not a very open person.. bc you know, a lot of authors give their life story whilst updating and publishing their fics, but i'm not quite that kind of gal.. anyhow, i don't think i ask for a lot, but if you guys could review and genuinely tell me how i can improve my writing (without being a dick) i would really appreciate it. i don't want the reviews just for the numbers to make my story look good, the sole purpose of me wanting reviews is so i can better myself in order to achieve my dream of writing a novel. thank you : )_

 _-reese_

"Cancun. _Nice_."

Tris laughs as she holds her phone in her hand, looking at her map. "So we're about three hours away from Cancun since we just passed Dzilam de Bravo. Can I tell you about the plan for the rest of the world? Like, the places I want to show you and how long we'll be there?"

I nod. "There's nothing I love more than listening to your voice while I drive, babe."

She grins. "After Cancun we'll just continue driving along the coast. The next major city we'll hit is Belize City. Then Panama City, then Barranquilla… we've got memories there," she laughs. "Then, you know, drive the eastern coast, then get to Cape Horn, one of my favorite places out of anywhere. Then go back up the western coast of South America, and I'd really like to show you Machu Picchu. Panama City, San José, and Managua. Back up Mexico's coast, get back into the U.S.'s western coast. Then through dead Canada, hit Vancouver first. Drive up through Juneau, hit Denali National Park, cross the Bering Strait and get into Russia—I know a guy who can get us there. Anyway, We'll go south to hit Japan, then South Korea, North Korea, and then China. Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand. Oh! In Thailand there's this place called Railay where the water is clear as day and the sand soft as can be. I have a friend there who can lend us his rowboat. It's one of my favorites, probably in my top five. What is my top five, you ask? Well, that's a good question." I laugh at the love of my life, shaking my head and waiting for her to continue. "One, St. Petersburg. The history there is amazing. Two, Railay. Three, Rainbow Mountains of Zhangye Danxia in Central China. Four, Neuschwanstein in Germany. It's the castle that inspired the movie adaptation of _Beauty and the Beast_. Five, Venice. I've always wanted to go there with a lover since it's such a ROME-antic place. Ha. Pun. Anyway, after Railay we'll back up the western coast of Thailand, maybe hit some waterfalls there. Then through Pakistan, Iran, a sliver of Iraq, Kuwait, then Saudi Arabia and Qatar. Dubai is _super_ cool; you'll love the beaches. Then we'll go back up the boot of Saudi Arabia, hitting Jerusalem along with Istanbul, then cross over to Greece to see Athens. I don't feel like explaining Europe, but essentially we'll be hitting Italy's boot, bottom of France, and then Spain. At Spain, we'll cross the Strait of Gibraltar into Africa. We'll go to the eastern coast of Africa, down to South Africa, hitting Cape Town. I loved Cape Town and climbing Table Mountain with you. We'll go back up the western coast of Africa and again cross the Strait of Gibraltar to get back into Europe. Hit the UK, you know, random countries. Then we'll make our way back through Russia, most importantly St. Petersburg. Then through all the –stan countries and across the Bering Strait once more. A mostly boring drive through Canada, then hit Nova Scotia. We'll keep heading south, then finally be home to D.C."

I nod. "God, I just love when you go on a roll like that. I love it, I really do."

She laughs. "I'm so excited to share these adventures with someone other than myself for once. It's exhilarating."

I shake my head. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, traveling the world and simply being happy with my girl."

Her eyebrows rise as she grins. "Rest of your life?"

I don't bother becoming shy and ashamed. "Absolutely. Don't act all surprised, Prior. I know you feel the same way, and we both know it's going to happen. I know we haven't been together very long time, but that doesn't change anything."

She shakes her head as well, grinning and unable to deny anything I just said. "Tobias, I swear to God, if you break my heart…"

* * *

"Reserva Biológica Río Plátano is near Brus Laguna here in Honduras. There's a secluded waterfall on the Biosphere Reserve, and I am in desperate need of a shower and some sexy time with you," Tris tells me with a laugh. "We should be there in… now," Tris tells me. "Turn right up here. You'll either have to go off-roading in your truck or park somewhere and walk. If we walk, it'd only be about a ten-fifteen minute walk. It's up to you."

I park my truck as an answer.

When we arrive at the falls from our small walk, we're overtaken with the calming sound of the water trickling down. Trees surround us. It's incredibly peaceful and relaxing—everything Tris and I could ask out of any jungle's waterfall. We stand atop the base of the fall, watching it fall down about 50 feet.

"How do we get down there?" I ask. "I mean, is there a path—"

Tris shakes her head, grins, and immediately strips to her bikini, pulling her shirt over her head and off of her body. Next thing I know, she's getting a running start, and then her body disappears into the endless pit of water. My heart skips a beat in fear out of the idea that she may not come back up. Soon, my faith is restored when I see the soaking wet blonde locks of hers come afloat.

"Come on down," she yells with a laugh, "the water's fine!"

I shake my head. She knows I'm afraid of heights, which is exactly why she did this. To help me conquer my fears. After all, jumping off a cliff is on my bucket list.

 _"_ _Seriously? There's no way."_

 _Tris laughs as she nods. We're somewhere near the border of Guatemala into Honduras. "Yeah. I've had the same bucket list since I was fifteen. I haven't wanted to add anything. I've completed all but one thing. I'll read my list out loud to you._

 _"_ _1\. 'Go to the Olympics.' Just to watch, obviously. I went when I was sixteen."_

 _2\. 'Get a tattoo. I might change my mind, but right now, I want a cute cartoony universe behind my ear to remind me of how small things really are.' I got it. The universe. You know that._

 _3\. 'Watch the sun rise and set with the love of my life. In Italy, ideally.' We've done that countless times on missions, not only in Italy, but all over the world._

 _4\. 'Well, in order to watch the sun rise and set with the love of my life, I have to find the love of my life first. So, find the love of my life.'" Tris laughs. "Check."_

 _5\. 'Step foot on every continent. Even Antarctica.' Check._

 _6.—"_

 _"_ _Hold up," I interrupt. "I had no idea you've been to Antarctica."_

 _She shakes her head. "I'd like to go back to explore it more, but I only step foot for about an hour. I took a boat from Cape Horn to Machu Picchu Base, the Peruvian research center for climate and geology and what not. But yeah, technically I've been to all seven continents."_

 _I laugh. "Holy shit. You're amazing"_

 _She laughs and grabs one of my hands as I drive, then strokes it with her thumb._

 _"_ _6\. 'Kiss in the rain.' Check, times ten. I love doing that with you._

 _7\. 'World road trip! Drive around the edge of every continent!' Oh my, I wrote… fourteen exclamation points total. I love fifteen-year-old me."_

 _8\. The final one, 'Get married. Have kids. Two of them. Name one after my husband.'"_

 _Tris looks up, smiling._

 _"_ _What do you say?" she asks, awaiting my answer._

I shake my head, snapping myself out of my own daydream.

I have to jump. I take off my shirt with a deep breath. It feels as if every second I continue to stand up there, the cliff gets higher and higher. I see her waving up and calling at me, urging me to be brave and just jump.

Her blonde locks are soaking and I can see her beautiful self even from 50 feet away.

This is my future.

She is my future.

I jump.

 _if u didn't read the author's note pls go back up and read it, u would be doing me a huge solid lmao_


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Jump Pt. 2: South America

 _Thank you guys so much for all of the lengthy reviews last chapter! They were honestly the most helpful things I've heard in a while. If you have anything else to say, please do :)_

"No," I tell Tris. "No. No, no. No. Not today. Not again. Nope. Once was enough."

"Tobias. One of the things on your bucket list was to be brave. Come on."

"This is different. I'm not suicidal."

Tris laughs. "Just do it. Mark it _for real_ off your bucket list."

 _I shrug. "I don't know. I… Never mind, I totally know," I laugh. "1. Be brave."_

 _Tris nods. "You can definitely mark that off. You left your job for nearly five months to live your dream in Tongareva. You quit your job and became a teacher. You moved to France. You took three months to travel the world with the love of your life. I'd say that's pretty brave, baby."_

 _I shrug. "You're right, I guess. I just feel like I need to do one more thing to truly mark it off, you know?"_

 _She nods once more. "What's next?"_

 _"2. Travel the world with the love of my life. I can check that off._

 _3\. Learn five languages. That was something that I'd always wanted to do since I was little. I had very diverse friends, so that really broadened my perspective._

 _4\. Get married. Have two kids. Raise them right. Make sure the woman who has my children loves our children and me more than anything in the world. Have a healthy, thriving relationship._

 _5... Um… I'm running out of things. I guess I've never really planned things out like that. If I want to do something, I do it. You know?"_

 _Tris grins. "I love you."_

"Tris," I say assertively, "I love you. I really do. So much. But I am _not_ jumping off of that cliff. There could be rocks down there. We could get caught in the undertow. Drift out to sea. I—"

She walks to the very edge of cliff, looks out, and then turns around. She reaches her hand out and asks, "Do you trust me?"

I grin. "Of course I trust you."

"Then jump," she says simply. She grabs my hand and walks me to the edge. I walk with careful tepidity near the end of the cliff, careful of any misstep I might make.

"One, two—"

So we jump. Again.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Jump Pt. 3: St. Petersburg

We've jumped from a waterfall in North America. We've jumped from a cliff at the southernmost point in the world in South America. We've jumped from a cliff in Africa into the clear as day water. We've jumped from a waterfall in Europe.

None of those compare to the jump I'm about to make today. The ring is heavy in my hand, weighing me down with every step I take as I swing my arms. It's a Russian ring that I bought here and that I know is Tris's favorite design. Russian style rings are made up of three strips: gold, silver, and bronze. They all intertwine and cross. The ring is truly beautiful and undoubtedly Tris's style.

This is too soon.

This is definitely too soon.

A mere three months?

Christ, that's way too soon.

"Zeke Predrad."

"Zeke," I say in a panic when he answers. "Where are you? What time is it there? We're in Russia."

"Woah, brother, calm down. It's 9 AM here in D.C. It's gotta be, what, midnight or one AM there?"

I nod rapidly. "Yeah. Yup. It is. Mhm. 1 AM. Here. In St. Petersburg. Yup."

"Four, what is going on?" Zeke asks. "Hey, Chris and Uriah are here. You're on speaker."

"Good. Perfect. Great. Okay. So… Alright. You know how St. Petersburg is Tris's favorite city in the world? Well. It is. She loves Russian jewelry too, so I figure that I may as well buy—"

"Tobias Keith Eaton," Christina says. "Are you proposing to my best friend?"

I take a deep breath. "I bought a ring," I say, giving no direct answer.

Everyone seems to want to talk on the other side. The only one I hear is Christina. "You guys have been dating for three months. Are you sure about this?"

Zeke huffs. "Obviously he's not sure about it if he's calling us, Chris. Tobias, don't panic. It's normal to have butterflies. When Will proposed to Christina he practically shit his pants. If you know you want to marry her and you know that she wants to marry you, then what could go wrong? And it's not like you have to get married right away. You could be engaged until, like, December or whenever you two decide. You should know better than anyone that life is too short to wait. So do it, Tobias. You'd be mad at yourself if you didn't."

I slow my breathing. His words calm me and keep me sane enough to pull myself together.

"It's not that I'm unsure about marrying her, it's that I'm unsure if she'll say yes."

Christina chimes in with a laugh. "Tobias, honey… She loves you. Time doesn't matter to her, you know that."

I nod. "You're right," I tell them confidently. You're 100% right. I'll let you guys know what happens."

"You bett—"

"Baby," Tris says in a tired voice as she cracks open the door.

"Gotta go, guys," I say quickly, then hang the phone.

"Sorry, sweetie," I tell her softly. "Zeke called. We just got done."

"Oh," she yawns, "sorry. Come back to bed?"

Tris stands in the doorway in one of my shirts, wiping her eyes in fatigue.

"Of course." I step in and she raises her arms.

"Carry me?" she asks.

I only laugh. The bed is a mere ten feet away, but I pick her up anyhow. When we arrive at the bed, I gently set her down. She tugs on my pajama pants, pulling me down next to her. I'm practically her pillow the rest of the night, but I don't mind. If anything, it's the best-case scenario; it keeps me from overthinking to death.

* * *

When I awaken, it's to the smell of pancakes and eggs. Tris is showering at the moment, and the room service lies in the middle of the room. I consider hopping in the shower with her, but decide against it. I'd only shake the whole time out of anxiety.

After my long thinking session the night previous, I was able to decide the exact spot in which I want to propose to Tris. The Peterhof Palace.

When Tris steps out of the shower and opens the door, she's naked when she asks, "Any ideas as to what you want to do today?"

I smirk. "Peterhof Palace. Your favorite."

She nods, grinning as she puts on a bra and underwear. "Built in 1703 by Peter the Great. From 1700 to 1721, Russia was at war with Sweden, and there was a battle in Ukraine. In 1709, that battle became the turning point of the whole war. The Tsar wanted to celebrate this victory so he dedicated the Peterhof to the victory over Karl XII. He got the inspiration for the palace design during a trip to France where he saw Chateau de Versailles in Italy where, as you know, there were many treaties ending many wars. The 'Grand' part of the palace has 4 cascades and 150 fountains. It was an imperial residence for nearly 200 years."

I stand up and begin to get dressed as she continues her history lesson that I love so dearly. I wear a navy button-up shirt with rolled sleeves and nice khakis, along with brown shoes.

"Can you pick out my outfit?" she laughs. "You're better at fashion that I am," she grunts.

I shake my head as I chuckle and I get up. I go over to her disaster area of a suitcase and sift around a bit. Eventually I find a warm-looking forest green sweater dress, a black scarf, black tights, and black knee-high boots.

"Perfect," she tells me. "Why a dress though? I feel like this is too dressy just for a tour, you know?"

"Nope. I've got something pretty neat planned."

She puts on her tights and trips and falls into my arms out of excitement. "What? What're you doing? What's the surprise?"

"No," I tell her. "Absolutely not. You'll just have to wait and see."

She groans. "You suck."

Her outfit is complete, and she looks stunning, per usual. She puts on her jacket and grabs mine for me.

"To the palace, my dear lady."

* * *

When we arrive, I'm in panic mode. I can hardly process anything. However, I hear Tris say she has to use the restroom and that she'll meet me back here.

Somehow I manage to dial Zeke's number with my jittery hands.

"Did you do it?" Zeke asks before anything.

"No. We're at the palace. She's using the restroom. Pretty sure I'm having a panic attack," I respond. "Definitely having a panic attack."

Zeke laughs. "C'mon man, chill out. She'll say yes. You guys may've only been together for three months, but it's practically been three years. Every since Peary you guys have been inseparable and basically dating anyway."

I groan. "I don't know, Zeke. Obviously I want to marry her with every fiber of my being, but what if she's not sure? What if she doesn't think this is right? What if she wants to wait longer?"

"What if she doesn't?" he counters.

He's right. There's just as much of a chance that she says yes rather than no.

"Thank you, Zeke. I'll let you know what happens."

I hang the phone in the nick of time as my hopefully soon-to-be fiancé steps out of the restroom. She grabs my hand with a smile and starts to walk again.

"Fountain or garden?" she asks softly. "The garden, especially now, is probably pretty secluded. It's a weekday and not a popular time for visiting."

I nod. "Yeah. The garden."

When we head to the garden, she squeezes my hand a little bit harder to ensure her closeness. She has a concerned look on her face but doesn't elaborate on it.

The garden is absolutely beautiful. We walk around listening to the smaller, center fountain of the garden. We sit on the bench part of the fountain.

"I love this. It's just so beautiful. There's so much to look at and so much to think about here. It's amazing how only certain places can provoke your mind the way places like this do. While I was in Tongareva I'd done the most thinking in my life. I had everything figured out. At least, I thought I did. I was so set on not needing you. I really was. But when I saw your face at that airport… Your stupid, beautiful face"—I laugh—"I lost it. I completely lost it for what was probably the third time in my life. The other two times were epiphanies of me realizing how much I love you. I… don't even know what I'm saying, and it's kind of all just flowing out, so I'm going to keep going.

"This entire time I've been pursuing this friendship and relationship, I've considered myself to be losing it. This entire thing, whatever the hell we were before Tongareva and Australia, I've been losing it. And losing it, by my definition, is the process of falling in love. And, when you finally lose it, you've completely fallen in love. I lost it. I lost it a long, long time ago. Maybe Peary, maybe Cape Town, maybe Barranquilla. I'll never know where exactly I was when I lost it. I'll never know because maybe I've loved you my whole life. Even before Peary, when we hadn't even met yet. I was in love with you before I even knew you, Beatrice Elizabeth. You are absolutely the woman I want by my side for the rest of my life. You… I don't know," I say with a chuckle. "You're my person."

She turns toward me with watering eyes. "Please tell me that's the surprise. That's perfect. I… It's all I could ever ask for. I mean… you seemed a little anxious and unnerved, you know? You were quieter until just now. I mean, that's the most you've said since we arrived in Russia. You haven't been acting like yourself until just then. I was pretty worried. But then you just… I don't know."

I laugh. I grab both of her hands, and drag her up, so we're standing. I place both of my hands on her jaw and gently plant a kiss on her lips.

"Tobias," she laughs as I pull back. "What're you—"

I pull the white velvet box from my pocket and get down on one knee.

"Oh, no," she says with a laugh. "Tobias Keith."

My face falls.

"No!" she says. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, yes. Um. Never mind. Please continue to ask…whatever you were about ask."

I laugh, tears in my eyes. "Beatrice Elizabeth, will you marry me?"

She nods. "Yes. Yes. Without a doubt in my mind I want to you marry you, Tobias Eaton."

Tris doesn't make me stand up. Rather, she gets on her knees, meeting me at the ground.

She holds out her hand, waiting for me to put the ring on.

"Oh my God," she says. "It's Russian. With the bronze, silver, and gold… all twisted together. You know everything about me. How?"

"I'm so crazy about everything you do," I tell her. "Everything. I pay attention to the intriguing things, which, by chance, is everything about you."

Tris laughs with me. "We're getting married."

"We're getting married."

This is the biggest jump of them all.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: The Reason

 _Last chapter- I'd really love to hear your thoughts about the overall story. A/N to come tomorrow :)_

-Lyon, France-

"D'accord, les gars. S'il vous plaît, sortez vos crayons et papier et nous pouvons prendre des notes. Traduire ce que je viens de dire à l'anglais, Sylvie." _Alright, guys. Please take out your pencils and paper so we can take notes. Translate what I just said to English, Sylvie._

The class laughs at Sylvie because they know how much it sucks when I pick on them.

In an accent, she says, "Please take out your pencils and paper so we can take notes."

"Now," I say. "Jacques, tell me what the board says."

He reads, "Mr. Eaton is leaving early today." Then he adds something not on the board: "Because his super hot fiancé that he somehow landed is getting in from America in about an hour. She's been gone for a month."

I roll my eyes, but I smile. "Yes. You are correct. I am taking half of a personal day today so that I can pick up my beautiful fiancé from the airport."

The class gives a little "aw" and one student speaks up. "Mr. Eaton, isn't your wife a spy?"

I shake my head. "Just because she works for Interpol doesn't mean that she's a spy."

"But is she?"

I laugh. "Classified."

"Didn't you and her fall in love as spies?" a girl asks. "You know, in the CIA in America? That's what the whole school is saying."

"Classified," I say, chuckling.

"I know exactly what happened," a kid speaks up.

"You know what?" I interrupt. "You can tell my whole story, Marie. I've told you it myself. Feel free. But do it in English. You all may as well learn from it."

"What happened was that Tris and Mr. Eaton met at their training camp for the CIA when they were 22. They were hand-plucked by their boss because they were the top two in their class. They were just friends for the longest time because they thought the CIA had a policy on in-office relationships. So they flirted and became a little more than just friends, but less than significant others. Little had they known, they each were in love with each other, but thought the other just wanted to be friends—plus their work happened. They actually kissed while they were drunk, but they both knew it was the real deal. They acted like nothing happened. Then something changed our teacher's life forever: Tris was shot. She almost died and was in a coma for a couple of hours. That was when he realized that he needed to tell her he loved her. So when they got back to D.C., they professed their love for each other. Our young, naïve, and innocent teacher here believed they'd work out and be together forever in a perfect world. Turned out she left at four o'clock in the morning and hopped on a plane to Australia. Left a note on his door explaining how much she loved him and that she'd be back soon. Nearly tore Mr. Eaton apart. It was terrible. He went to Tongareva though, an island in French Polynesia. It was secluded, and it was there that he realized he wanted to teach English to foreigners. After they were gone and apart for a whole five months, Eaton met her at the airport and surprised her, and it was probably the cutest thing in the history of man. Ever. Seriously, guys. Anyway, they continued their jobs and decided to move to here to Lyon for Tris's job at Interpol. And here they are. They've been here for three months and set to marry in four months in September. A beautiful love story missing many other various pieces, but nonetheless beautiful."

I nod, grinning at the story of how I came to love my Tris.

"Mr. Eaton, please tell us a various piece," a girl requests.

I look up and grin. "I have the perfect story."

I begin uncontrollably grinning. "She writes. Both poems and stories. There was one night in Venezuela… we'd just gotten back to our hotel after a mission and she read me a bunch of her poems. I'll never forget the look in her eyes when she said 'Tobias! Pencil!' because she'd just gotten an idea. She read me the poems and that was when I realized I definitely needed to marry this woman. Then, the next morning, I ordered room service for us. We ate breakfast on the balcony, and that was where I decided that I would be moving here to Lyon with Tris. It was also when we decided to take that three-month around-the-world vacation. Best time ever. But, yeah, I'll never forget that day and night in Caracas, Venezuela."

One of my students rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Mr. Eaton. There's _got_ to be cuter than that. Like… how did you propose?"

I shrug. "We should get back to work. We have things to do. Would you rather start your homework or listen to me blabber about my love life?" I laugh. I grab the pile of papers to assign as homework.

"Love life," they all answer.

"We can do homework at home," another one says. "We love hearing about our teachers' lives."

I nod, and then I set the papers back down. "Alright. It was on our world road trip," I begin. I sit down in my chair and then I continue. "We were at her favorite place—St. Petersburg. We went to the Peterhof Palace, one of her favorite historical sites. We were in the botanical garden and I popped the question. It's really not that good of a story."

They all still smile. "One more story," they ask.

"Saving the best for last. Here we go. It was the day I met her. She looked beautiful. The first time I saw her she was wearing a giant sweatshirt that read 'U.S. NAVY' and leggings. She had a high messy bun, glasses, and a cup of coffee in her hand. It'd been 5 o'clock in the morning and it was time for our first briefing at Camp Peary—the place we were trained to be spies. I immediately was drawn to her, so I decided to take the seat next to hers, even though there were many other open chairs. I didn't say anything. Just drank my coffee. Five minutes later, before the briefing started, without looking at me, she said 'I like you.'"

"Oh, then what?" a student says dramatically.

Chuckling, I answered. "I laughed when she said it. She had a little smirk on her face too. She said 'You just sat down, didn't say anything, and drank your coffee. I love it. We're friends now.' And then we were," I finish. "For far too many years."

The class was silent. "Okay," I say, "now for the homework." I pass it out, and by the time I'm done, it's time for me to leave. "And… It is officially 12 o'clock, so I get to leave. Your substitute teacher is on her way from the office. Please be respectful and be on your best behavior. Have a good rest of the day," I say as a farewell. The students all wave and say an "Au Revoir!"

I can't stop tapping my foot as I drive myself to Lyon's airport. I keep imagining seeing my beautiful, lovely Tris. She's been away in Thailand for an entire month, and we've both been practically having separation anxiety. After this she'll be home for the next three months, which is something I'm definitely grateful for.

Before I know it, I'm at the airport and waiting at her gate. I'm right on time, so hopefully she'll be coming out soon.

Out of her gate I start seeing people filter through and walk past me.

None of which are Tris. I wait a couple more minutes, because she's probably just getting her bags off of the top of the carry-on.

I go to text her but see I already have one from her from about a half hour ago that I must've missed.

 _Hi honey! I'm in Aleppo, Syria, right now. The plane had some sort of fueling problem or whatever, so we had to stop): I don't know when I'll be home or even when we're leaving Aleppo. I love and miss you so very much, and I absolutely cannot wait to see you, Tobias._

I smile and sigh all at once. I decide to head home and set up a nice little dinner for her when she gets back so I pick up some mini-cupcakes on the way home for her.

When I walk into our apartment, my Tris is standing there, looking all beautiful and cute like usual. She stands by the kitchen table, which is covered with food, wearing a long dress that goes to her feet with her hair up in a ponytail.

I grin and grin and grin. She doesn't say anything; she only does the same. Eventually, she runs over to me and throws her arms around me. I spin her around as I hold her tight as can be.

"I love you," she says simply as she hugs me. "Oh my god, I've missed you."

I pull back and kiss her with everything I've got.

Tris laughs. "I made us dinner. Your favorite."

I laugh as well. "Chicken roulade. You're amazing."

She shrugged. "Just a lot."

As I grab her hand, I pull her in for another hug, content as can be. So we sit down and we eat our chicken roulade. We talk, which I always enjoy, and I smile the whole time. This is my life, and I absolutely wouldn't have it any other way. I hold her hand across the table, and it might be the smallest most amazing feeling I've ever felt in my life. This moment, right here, is the reason I choose to live every single day to best of my ability. She is the reason I am who I am, and she is the reason I will continue bettering myself by her side for rest of my life. I will continue to fall in love with her and lose it every single day of my life.

She is the reason.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N

I just wanted to thank everyone who read this story. I truly believe it's my best work even though it's not super great. I'm only getting better with every story I write, so hopefully by the end of my next story I'll be pretty damn good. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me and reviewed as well.

I'm sure some of you are wondering about my next story as well. Well, guess what, bitches. There's two. Kind of. One is called Super Rich Kids, which is based off the song Super Rich Kids by Frank Ocean. Listen to the song and get to know the lyrics if you'd like, it's a great song. That will likely just be a short story. I'm nearly halfway done with it.

As for my next real story, it's called Malaika. It sounds like a strange title, but it has quite a bit of meaning to it. It means Angel in Swahili. I'm super crazy excited about Malaika simply because it is going to be very fun to write. I have the whole plotline planned out and it is quite thrilling. Here is the basic summary:

Tobias and Tris are epidemiologists in Africa studying the Ebola Virus outbreak. Tobias has been in The DR Congo ever since the first case modern day, and the CDC (Center of Disease Control) is sending extra help: one researcher/lab technician by the name of Tris Prior. Tobias begins as a slightly arrogant, preserved, bothered, and stressed out scientist who has too much on his plate. Tris has worked her whole life to achieve her dream of becoming an epidemiologist. What will happen when she arrives in Congo? Will she contract the disease? Cure it? Find true love in her job, or another fellow epidemiologist? Only time will tell. Tris is just what a Africa needs: A Malaika

...so that's it :) it's a bit different than most stories, but I'm very excited. Please let me know what you think of the idea!

Once again, thank you all.

-reese


End file.
